


Migration Patterns

by RedInkOfShame



Series: Duck Pond Universe [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Slice of Life, Smlungst, Smut + Fluff + Angst, that's right it's back:
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28321470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedInkOfShame/pseuds/RedInkOfShame
Summary: This is a series of moments taken from Elle and Solas’ attempts to build a life together, trying to overcome the things that separated them before. Set after the events of At the Duck Pond, they struggle to reconnect and learn to trust again. Building a life together is easier said than done, especially with the knowledge that Elle will leave in a few year’s time.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas, Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), solavellan - Relationship
Series: Duck Pond Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2074134
Comments: 42
Kudos: 17





	1. Now and Then

**Author's Note:**

> Immediately after I finished Duck Pond I intended to post a bunch of one-shots of what happens with Elle and Solas next, but then I just… Didn’t. (How has so much time passed??) Last November, though, for SOME reason, I was filled with a lot of political energy I funneled into the first several chapters. I’ve decided instead to post them collected here. Because it’s a series of shorts there isn’t some grand over-arching plot, but they are posted in chronological order, so it’s almost a proper fic.
> 
> Also, there’s a lot more smut.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last, I bring you: The Reconciliation Date™ 
> 
> Set right after the final chapter of At the Duck Pond, Elle and Solas have dinner together for the first time after a four month separation. They acknowledge the age gap for the first time, and Solas talks about his childhood.
> 
> Happy holidays!

It had been three weeks since Elle had asked Solas out to dinner, on a date-date. A real, grown up date. 

It had been three weeks, but it felt like six. It almost felt like it had been long enough that she should just put the idea behind her. Like it was ridiculous to spend so much time thinking about it. Like she was trying to force something that wasn’t going to happen naturally. 

After everything, the trepassing and the betrayal and like two layers of lies and then the truth and… it was just a lot. It took her almost a week to text him after getting his number that day, and then another half a week before she’d been willing to actually commit to a date and time, which she then canceled the next day due to her work load and definitely not because of anything else. They really did expect you to work 80 hours a week when you started law school.

But it was the weekend again, and her homework was done, and she would finally get to see him again. 

The last couple weeks of texting him had been… Good. Mostly. It wasn’t like before, and despite everything going on they seemed to never have much to say. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d tried to broach a subject only to delete everything when her text reached three paragraphs and counting. 

She wondered how to tell the difference between anxiety or excitement or trepidation as she put on the first outfit she found, refusing to think too hard about it. They’d spent six months hanging out together; it wasn’t like he didn’t know what she looked like on good or bad days. She dressed up a bit for class these days, wearing her semi-professional attire, and that would just have to be enough for whatever the were doing tonight. 

She picked up her phone. She opened her text chain with Max and her thumbs waggled over the keyboard, but she closed it without saying anything. She checked the time — she still had like twenty minutes.

She changed her blouse to a fuchsia colored one; might as well have a little fun, right? She kept her black slacks, though. She still did not put make up. Or heels. 

Which was probably good, because she’d likely have worn a hole in the carpet by the time Solas showed up, even though he was early. 

She heard Solas pull up outside but waited until he knocked, because that seemed like the date-y thing to do. She opened the door to see him standing there in the setting sunlight, wearing suit pants and a nice button-down shirt that looked ironed. 

Elle snorted as he handed her a bouquet of flowers. “What is this, prom?”

“You’re thinking of a corsage. Flowers are merely old fashioned.”

She laughed a little. “And now you’re beating me at my own jokes!” She tsked, and started looking for a vase, not at all sure she wouldn’t have to put them in a cup or something. “They’re very pretty. Where are they from?”

“Nu-uh. I believe the rules for tonight stated that _I_ got to plan the date, and that you would not require background checks or knowledge of the working conditions of the farm our food came from.”

“That’s for dinner!” she called as she moved to her hall closet, remembering a misshapen case from a misguided pottery class that was buried in it somewhere. “Flowers are not dinner.”

“I believe the transcript will show that you said ‘date’, not ‘dinner’.” He smirked, holding up his phone as if ready to display their text conversation on the matter.

She narrowed her eyes in play-skepticism, but she didn’t make him pull out the evidence. “I’ll allow it.”

Water went in the vase and the flowers went in the water, and the whole thing found a place on the table cluttered with law textbooks, notebooks, and some stray dishes. Elle turned to smile up at Solas. Well that hadn’t been so hard — hanging out with him again didn’t feel weird at all.

She grabbed her purse, having dug it out earlier when she decided that neither backpack nor briefcase was acceptable for tonight, and she nodded to the door. “Shall we?”

But then they got in the car, and neither said anything for too-many minutes. They awkwardly made eye contact a few times, and she wished she’d paid attention to his car radio pre-sets before so they’d at least have music to fill the silence. 

“So where are you taking me?” she asked when he took a downtown exit.

“Uh, well…” He cleared his throat. “I admit that I struggled for some time trying to imagine what you’d consider the ideal date spot, but in the end I decided to, uh, to go with my own tastes. As you said, we should get to know each other again, and you typically chose before…”

“Oh?” she pressed, partially because she hoped the adorable flush on this neck would continue to creep into his face.

It did. “So I made us reservations at L’Atelier de Ami Maupin. I’ve been there on my own a few times, but it strikes me as an evening meant for two.”

They lived in Orlais, so obviously most restaurants were Orlesian, but this sounded on of those high-end places. There was going to be candlelight, wasn’t there? “I hope I’m not under-dressed.”

He smiled at her briefly. “You look beautiful, as always.”

That didn’t give her any confidence in how she was dressed, but it certainly flustered her until they got to the restaurant. 

She’d been right. The restaurant aisles were designed with many corners and walls, making every booth feel secluded, and when (what she assumed was) the Maître d' showed them to their table there were indeed candles. There was also a white tablecloth, and a menu she couldn’t read that didn’t list the prices. Soft piano music drifted in the air. 

She ordered water, because it seemed tacky to order soda in a place like this, and because she didn’t like wine. Solas followed suit. 

He’d lived in Orlais a lot longer than she and spoke a great deal more Orlesian, so he guided her through most of the menu options, though some were a mystery even to him. She looked them up on her phone, and regretted it. 

As she read off the explanations to him she couldn’t help her disgusted expression, and he made one right back.

“Orlesians will eat anything, apparently,” he said, wrinkling his nose. She laughed, more in relief than anything else. There was her Solas… She’d been starting to worry he was actually into this lifestyle.

After all their investigation, they ended up just asking their server for recommendations. He ordered the house special (some kind of chicken) and a single glass of wine, and she _thought_ she ordered pork. Solas raised his eyebrows at her choice, but said nothing.

“So, how had UO been since I left?” she asked, fiddling with her napkin.

“Dr. de Fer misses you terribly. She’d never admit it, of course.” He launched into a few stories of her old graduate sponsor, then his own grad students: Cole, whom she’d met, and Merrill, who was new. He seemed to have a great deal to say about Merrill, and Elle was amused that he seemed in turn very impressed by and very exasperated with her. 

This of course involved discussing the arlin’holm. Then Solas side-stepping away from mentioning the law suit Elle had filed against this department for the return of the artifact to the appropriate Dalish clan, which she had subsequently dropped when a member of said clan (Merrill Sabrea) had became his new grad student and consented to his department’s use of the arlin’holm. 

That was about all he side-stepped, though. Their meals took some time, and right up until they brought their food out Solas went into great detail about every little thing that had gone in his department since they’d parted ways last fall. 

He paused to thank the server when their food was delivered, and Elle looked at what was definitely not pork on her plate. Whatever it was, it was small, and her knife cut through it like butter. 

She tentatively took a forkful. “What did I order, again?” she asked, putting the bite into her mouth. 

“Foie gras,” Solas answered hesitantly. “It’s… fattened duck liver. Or goose. To make it they—”

She held up her hand to stop him, pausing mid-chew. Her disgust at his words was at odds with the incredible taste in her mouth. 

After a moment she swallowed and cleared her throat. “Well. It’s amazing, apparently.”

“I… You should know, they make it by—”

She held her hand back up again. “Don’t. Let’s just… enjoy tonight. Can’t put the liver back in the goose, in any case.”

He nodded. “As I was saying before, after the carbon dating results came back—”

“Solas…” she interrupted again, but gently this time. “Let’s… Not do that, either.”

“Ah, sorry, am I talking about work too much?”

“No. Well– yes, but not because it’s boring or whatever. It’s not! It’s just…” She sighed, tapping her fork as she hunted the words. “It seems like… I feel like you’re over sharing, to– to overcompensate.”

Her words hung in the air for a moment, and she knew it was true. He had hidden stuff from her about his work before, and now was trying to go over-the-top in telling her everything as proof he wasn’t up to something. And even though it was sort of working, it couldn’t be healthy, right? And it was sort of setting her on edge.

He nodded slowly. “You are right, of course. I didn’t realize. Ir abelas.”

“It’s okay! Let’s just change the subject for now.”

He nodded. He sipped his wine, she sipped her water. They chewed in silence, unable to think of anything but what they weren’t saying. 

“Here,” she said eventually. “You should try some before I inhale it, it’s fantastic.” 

He reached his fork across the table and, at her nod, took a sample of her dish. She was treated to a tiny moan as he chewed and made the best little expression. “That’s delicious. I had thought my chicken was good, but now that I’ve tried yours…”

“We could split it?” she offered, already lifting her plate. “Half of mine for half of yours.”

He chuckled. “No, but thank you for the offer.”

“You sure?”

He nodded. “My cholesterol wouldn’t thank me, I’m sure.”

“Oh,” she said, setting her plate down. “Is that new? I don’t remember you worrying about it before.”

He made a pained face. “No, not new. I never mentioned it because… Well, because it makes me feel old, I suppose. And I’ve never wanted you to see me as such.”

“Aw, Solas…” Sympathy kept her from laughing, mostly. “It’s not as if I don’t know you’re older than me.”

“I know.”

“And health problems aren’t age-specific, anyway.”

“I know that as well,” he said, “But I’ve never been able to help but feel that– that it decreased my odds of you ever seeing me as more than a friend. And when I’m with you, sometimes it… Sometimes you make me feel young, and other times very, very old.”

She reached across the table, taking his hand to squeeze it briefly. Then she took a sip of water to hide a pause before she asked, because she had an idea but not the exact number, “How old are you?”

“Thirty seven,” he answered immediately. 

She nodded. “I’m twenty five.”

“I know.” He smirked. “It’s on your blog.”

She nodded again, feeling her cheeks getting warm. “Well… I supposed a dozen years is more than just a little difference, isn’t it? But– but not insurmountable. We’re not even from different generations I don’t think, technically.”

He grimaced. “It is well past the point where people will consider me a creep.”

“Are you?”

Solas blinked. “I… Don’t know how to answer that. I certainly don’t _feel_ like—”

“Are you only into younger women? Is by biggest appeal my age, naïveté, or young perky breasts?”

“Of course not!” he snapped. “In fact I would not have hesitated the way I did in the—”

“When older guys go for the younger girls it’s often because the girls are easier to impress and don’t have the experience to realize when their partner is using them, or have the confidence to call them out on their bullshit. Is that it?”

Solas let out a long-suffering sigh. “You’ve certainly never hesitated to call me out on my bullshit, Elizabeth.”

She smiled and set down her fork beside her now-empty plate. “See? You have nothing to worry about.”

“That won’t stop people from talking.”

She shrugged. “So let them.”

“It’s not that eas—” He sat straight up, looking past her. “Here it comes!”

She looked over her shoulder to see what had Solas looking like a kid in a candy shop — and saw that she wasn’t far off. A dessert cart was rolling their way.

Elle had always hated the small portions served at fancy restaurants, but with desserts like this she was glad she still had room. She chose a slice of tuxedo cake — the rich chocolate mousse ended up being the perfect compliment to her rich meal — and Solas had a plate with two frilly petit fours. Each of his cakes were topped with a little macaron, one of which he passed to her happily as he explained that the dessert menu was the entire reason he’d come here the first time. 

When he was done explaining the stomach ache he’d gotten last time, and looking every bit like he intended to get just as sick this time, she said, “I like this, this is fun. Not that your sugar crash part was fun… Or the cholesterol. Or the feeling old— what I meant was, I like you actually sharing for once, I guess.”

“I know I was reserved before. I’m sorry. I had a lot to hide— or, at least I felt I did.”

“Well that was dumb,” she said plainly. “What else don’t I know about you?”

He hesitated, thinking as he polished off his first cake. “Nothing comes to mind at the moment. Can you think of something you’d like to know?”

“How would I know?” she asked with a laugh. “Uh… Any extra toes? What’s your favorite color? Oh! What about your family?”

“No extra toes, or any other body parts for that matter. I had my appendix removed, if you’re interested in any _missing_ parts.” He smirked as she rolled her eyes. He gestured for the dessert cart as it passed them by again as it returned to the kitchen. “I’m partial to greens and blues…”

“Oh right. I knew that.”

He lifted a large slice of cheesecake off the tray with a nod of gratitude towards the server. “…And I don’t like to talk about my childhood, and by extension, my family. Or lack thereof.”

His eyes avoided hers as he set the cheesecake in the center of the table between them. She was burning with questions, but this was the most she’d heard him say on the subject and didn’t want to be insensitive about it.

She needn’t have worried, though. He picked up fork and cut into the dessert with it, but instead of taking the bite he said, “But to summarize: I was told my mother died when I was very young; I don’t remember her. My grandmother raised me after that, until she passed when I was four or five — I have a few memories of her, I think. Then I was bounced around the system. Orphanage, foster care. A family that was supposed to be permanent, but wasn’t. Another after that… By the time I was a teenager I had become… Bitter. Angry. I couldn’t stand waiting for each new home to tire of me, so I acted out. Normal stuff; skipping class, alcohol, petty theft.  
“It’s… Embarassing. It seems so childish, how I was always ready for a fight… In truth most of the placements were fine; I had food, shelter, healthcare. It’s obvious in hindsight that I was trying to reject them before they could reject me like the first family had. To force them to kick me out. _Daring_ them to. A self-fulfilling prophecy, of course. I think… The Wolfes, they would have kept me if I had let them. Maybe others, too. The Wolfes still sent me Satilanalia cards for years afterwards.” He shrugged. “I got myself emancipated at sixteen. It was harder than I thought, of course, to live alone. But I got my GED, and eventually started community college — this was back in Tevinter — and after I got my associates degree I realized that… That, uh, that I was good at school when I actually tried. When I did it for myself, and not just because it was expected or to avoid punishment. It helped that I wasn’t constantly change school districts, like when I was young. I finished by BA ahead of schedule, then moved to Orlais to continue my education. I entered grad school under Flemeth… I think you know the rest from there.”

He casually ate their cheesecake as she all but gaped at him. His voiced was even, his eyes dry — which was more than she could say about her own. He’d said it all so matter-of-fact, as if she wasn’t supposed to _ache_ for that little boy who just wanted to be loved. To belong. Food and shelter were not all a child needed.

Oh gods, and then he’d found belonging in academics… Hot tears fell when she thought about how blasé she’d been about his career, constantly putting it at risk when it was the only thing he had that was his and… 

“Crap…” she said quietly. “Solas, I’m so.. Shit. **Fuck**.”

He looked surprised at her swearing. “This all happened a long time—”

“No, but… _Creators_ , Solas!” She took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m so sorry you went through all that. And I really, _really_ want you to know that you can talk to me about it…”

“But?”

“But… But I’m moving back home after law school.”

“I know,” he replied, carefully neutral. 

“Back to Lavellan Reservation. As soon as I graduate. For good.”

“Yes.”

“And that has to bother you! I’ve known people who have gone through a fraction of all that and– and yes everyone has their own limits, but, they just had the most intense abandonment issues, and…” She was shaking her head. “I can’t do that. I can’t just sit here and string you along for three years and then up and leave!”

This was exactly what she wanted to avoid. She couldn’t go through what she had with Lace again, much less inflict it on someone else. What was she even doing here? With him? With anyone? 

This wasn’t the place for an outburst and she felt the urge to up and bolt, until Solas covered her hands with his, holding tight. 

Elle looked up to see his blue eyes piercing hers. “Stop. It’s okay, Elizabeth. I already knew all this. I know what I’m getting in to.”

She shook her head stubbornly. “That doesn’t make it okay.”

“I’m very grateful that you’re giving me another chance. After everything that—”

“ _You_ stop! I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

“Okay. We won’t. But please let me speak.” She could feel his hands shaking. “I am not looking to pretend nothing happened — I deserve to be held accountable, and the fact that you would do that and still offer me another chance… I _am_ grateful. I will also understand if, at any point, you decide that this won’t work, or that you can’t forgive me. You owe me no explanation if you wish to end things. But please… Please don’t second guess this because of what _might_ happen in three years. We have enough on our plates. Okay?”

Elle took a deep breath, then another, before she was thinking clearly enough to nod. “Okay. Right, you’re right. Who knows what could happen between now and then?”

She didn’t believe her own words, though. They had an expiration date and they both knew it.

Solas gestured to her glass. “Have some water,” he suggested. “Or the rest of this cheesecake, before I burst.”

She laughed, wiping tears from her eyes. She opted for the cheesecake. Which was, admittedly, perfect.

By the time they had polished off the rest of it she was almost too full to feel like a selfish cad for asking Solas out in the first place.

She leaned back with an ‘oof,’ hand on her aching too-full stomach. The check was dropped off and Solas pulled out his card. He didn’t look at the price as far as she could tell. She was tempted to look herself, though.

She eyed it. “Normally I would insist on paying half…” she broached.

He nodded. “I’m comfortable with that being our method when we both agree to eat together, however in this case — and any others where I choose the restaurant without consulting you — I would prefer to pay. It wouldn’t be right to expect you to when your budget was not taken into consideration.” 

“And I pay if I choose without asking you?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“Deal,” she said, and smiled. 

Solas stood, confusing her, as the server hadn’t picked up the card yet. He held out a hand. “May I have this dance?”

“Uh, is there dancing?” There wasn’t exactly room in the aisle. She took his hand anyway.

“Around the corner,” he said as he pulled her to her feet. 

It was around a couple corners, actually, but sure enough there was a little dance floor, and apparently the soft piano music they’d been listening to was live the whole time. She felt dumb for thinking the clapping was part of the recording… 

The pianist ended the current song just as they arrived, and she had no doubt that Solas had planned it this way. He took her hand and raised it into position, placing his other on her waist, and she remembered suddenly that she didn’t know how to dance.

“Uh…” She put her free hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to need a refresher…”

He smiled a small smile, hands guiding her as he stepped. “Listen. Slow, quickquick. 

Oh, right. She remembered that, and it took her just a handful of steps to find the pattern again. He adjusted how their hands fit together, and it felt less awkward. After a gentle reminder to keep her other arm stiff and her elbow up he asked if she remembered how to spin. She said that she thought she did.

She did not. 

After some laughter, he instructed her to ‘keep to the footwork’ as she turned, which only served to confuse her more. She stumbled back into his arms and he didn’t try to spin her again.

The song was pretty, and slow, and it wasn’t long before she was able to follow along as he angled them so that their box-step sort of pivoted around the dance floor. It was its own kind of spin, she supposed. 

Her feet picked up the rhythm on their own, which meant that soon there was nothing else to focus on besides his eyes. They were nearly lavender in this lighting, and the longer they danced across the floor the more butterflies danced in her stomach. Making a fool of herself in public was all well and good, but the way his eyes never once looked away from her made her heart pound. 

“Do you remember the dip?” he asked when the end of the song must have been approaching. 

Did she? “Probably not?”

“Two steps to the side…” They took the steps, and then he dipped her, his arm supportive across her lower back as she leaned back over it. His face hovered above hers as the notes came to an end, and damn if it didn’t feel like time stopped for a breathless moment. 

She lifted her head, going in for the kiss this moment was clearly calling for… 

But he rose and brought her up with him, both of them standing now, space between them. 

Her gut was still squirming with anticipation as he went to tip the pianist and then they returned to the table, and as over-stuffed as she was it nearly made her feel sick. 

Their server had returned with Solas’ card, so they gathered their things and they left. 

In his car he asked about law school, and she eagerly told him all about her instructors, her classmates, the workload… Whatever came to mind. She had considered, three weeks ago when they exchanged numbers, not telling him she was studying at Skyhold Law now. She remembered how he’d puzzled over her major when they first met and was tempted to make a game of it again… But it had felt off. Keeping secrets felt counter-productive. And, in any case, it was a big change and she was happy to have someone (besides Max) who understood. She realized as they drove that she’d been dying to talk to him in person about all this; texting could only do so much. 

She paused when he took an unexpected exit. “Are we going somewhere else?”

He slowed, taking a side street. “I appreciate you allowing me to lead tonight. I know how hard it must have been for you to refrain from looking up L’Atelier’s business practices during dinner,” he said with a smirk. He turned on another side street, and another, peering around like he was looking for something. “You didn’t even ask the staff about their hourly wages.”

She hesitated, partially because he hadn’t answered her question and partially because… Well, it had been pretty easy to set all that stuff aside for once, but she didn’t want to admit to it. 

Solas turned on his hazard lights and pulled his car over on a nearly empty street under and overpass. Ahead she could see a man who clearly looked like he lived underneath it. “So, I thought we could end the night with something more your style.” He twisted in his seat to gesture to a cardboard box on the floor behind him. 

“You still have them…” It wasn’t a question. Not the right question. She reached into the box and pulled out a folder, and her heart skipped when she saw there were only a few left; he had continued to pass them out without her. 

She got out of the car, folder in hand. In it were lists of resources and guides and maps, in large print and multiple languages. Solas left the car as well, leaving the headlights on for visibility. 

She approached homeless man, offered a friendly greeting, exchanged names. He was CJ, and she asked him how he was doing, cautiously moving the conversation to what shelters he had tried. Not everyone responded positively to her attempts to help, which was entirely understandable; she probably wouldn’t like it if some stranger started telling her how to live her life, either. In that case she’d leave the the folder and go (and spend the next week mentally agonizing over it).

But many were willing to listen, or were genuinely lost on what options they had available. Yet more, like this man, were so happy to have someone to talk to that they never stopped to question it. He told her about how he’d been turned away, how he couldn’t get government assistance because he didn’t have a mailing address, told her about his life and how he’d gotten here. They sat on the curb and Elle showed the man a list of other shelters to try that were smaller but not so strike about substance abuse or religion; showed him an email address of a non-profit that might help him get a PO Box; the libraries he could use to send said email; the gyms he could rotate through for free one-week memberships (so he could use their showers). Though it didn’t seem like he was strong enough to work he seemed really intent on it, so she also gave him a list of places that reliable hired day laborers, a list of places that was hiring long term (though she feared it might be outdated), and a rideshare company that offered free rides for interviews.

But, mostly, she listened. She gave him an understanding ear, free of judgement, even when he blamed immigrants for taking his job and his son’s sexual orientation for losing his family. The man had lost all stability in his life — it was a shame he’d lost his compassion as well, but hopefully that could come later. He spoke in circles a lot, at times nearly incomprehensible. She went over her recommendations multiple times, because she doubted he could remember them for more than a few minutes. Hopefully the papers would help, though. He didn’t seem to have any problem reading. 

And she gave him her phone number, hoping she wouldn’t regret it, but genuinely hoping he’d stay in contact. He would need more help than this, she knew.

All the while Solas stood by, protective, but in a friendly way. He tried to joining the conversation but the man’s attention seemed stuck on Elle, so he stepped back again. At one point, as if to bring the conversation to a close, he retrieved a box of non-perishable goods from his trunk, as well as a small blanket. 

It had to have been more than thirty minutes before they got back in the car. Elle’s throat was tight — CJ’s obvious regret over cut family ties; Solas’ patience and the box that he’d obviously put together himself; her own guilt for being stuff with foie gras and cheesecake as so many others huddled miserably on the concrete out there somewhere… Everything they’d talked about in the restaurant. 

It was all too much, _almost_ too much; she managed to hold herself together, though. Solas drove her home, and it was quiet again, but it didn’t feel awkward this time. She was lost in thought when he parked, but then he walked around and opened her door for her and she became hyper aware of the present again. He walked her to her front door — well, to the steps that led down to her basement level apartment. And there they lingered.

“I had a—” she said, at the exact same time he said, “Thank you for—” 

They both stopped to let the other speak, and of course neither did. 

With a little laugh she tried again. “I had a great time tonight. I’m really glad we did this.”

“Yes, I… I did as well. Thank you. It has been wonderful to see you again.”

She didn’t like the way that sounded more like a longterm goodbye, somehow. 

She shifted closer. Or maybe they both had? The butterflies were back either way, and all she could think about was that kiss she hadn’t gotten earlier. “You haven’t seen the last of me,” she told him, leaning in. She brushed his face with her hand with every intention of pulling him into a kiss. 

His hand moved up, though, catching hers. 

“Solas…”

She fell silent as he pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand, eyes shining in the dingy street lamps. Damn his lips were soft…

“I—” He sighed. “I’m glad. Next weekend, then?”

Huh? 

“Um, yeah, sounds good.” 

He nodded. “Goodnight, Elizabeth.”

“Goodnight,” she said, but he was already turned and headed back to his car.

Sullenly, she turned to her own door, keys in hand. 

Well that was disappointing. What was that about? 

Whatever it was, it didn’t sting like rejection. She was bad at these sorts of things, but she was confident that wasn’t it. So what was the problem? _He_ was the one in the dog house; if she was ready for a goodnight kiss, shouldn’t he be, too?

She sighed and let it go, and then she unlocked her door with a small smile. Whatever it was, they would figure this out, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ami de Maupin is one of my D&D characters. I practiced a French accent for weeks.
> 
> Foie gras is fucked up. Did not enjoy googling that one, and neither will Elle. If it wasn’t for her Dalish hunter roots it would be enough to push her to full time vegetarianism. There’s supposedly more ‘humane’ ways to make it, that yes do seem better, but it’s still intentionally giving an animal liver disease… 
> 
> CJ is me processing some things about my father-in-law, though to be honest the thought of meeting new people without wearing a mask makes me balk, even just writing about it.


	2. *Netflix and Chill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst? In MY Solavellan smut? (It’s exactly as likely as you think.)
> 
> Ket asked for this one, and even sent in a DWC prompt. Things get heavy during movie night. Explicit, but with plot. If you’re interested in the plot but not the explicit please feel free to send me a message and I can whip up an edited version.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Duck Pond had been a standard book I would have removed the fragment where Elle is terminally afraid of the words ‘I love you’, because I didn’t have time to tie that up during the story. But, as I said, I always intended to continue after the story, so I left it in so I could explore it later. (Also fic is inherently self-indulgent so why not.)

It had been six weeks since Elle and Solas started seeing each other — really _seeing_ each other. Three weeks since they’d kissed again. She’d been unable to wait a moment longer and wrapped her arms around his neck the second he opened her door, and he’d bent to kiss her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She’d seen the moment he realized what he did, but this time he hadn’t pulled away. They’d spent the rest of the night so flirty and giggly and ridiculous it made her cheeks burn to think about it. 

She was incredibly busy with law school and seeing him once a week just wasn’t enough for her, so tonight she was doubling up: movie night with both him and Max. 

Her cousin had, truthfully, not-at-all come around on Solas. Elle knew that it would take more than a long-distance movie night to earn her cousin’s approval, but it was a start. In any case, Max had promised to be on her best behavior. 

Solas was in the Elle’s kitchen making popcorn over the out-dated stove top. Max, complete with her ever-present headphones, could be seen on the screen of Elle’s laptop, which sat on the couch facing Elle’s TV. In actuality Max would be watching on her own screen at home, not through the webcam or any such thing, but Elle liked to pretend the laptop was Max sitting beside her. She even sat between Max and Solas’ seats to separate them, just like she likely would have to next time they met.

Solas walked in, snacks in hand, as Elle queued up the movie. It was her turn to pick and she’d shocked the others by not forcing them to watch a documentary for once. Nope, today was _Legally Blonde_ , and she had no regrets. 

“Ready, Halla Breath?” Elle asked once she and Solas were seated. 

“Ready, Frog Legs,” her cousin replied. 

“3… 2…” Simultaneously they pressed play and settled in. 

She and Solas quickly devoured the popcorn. It turned out the be kettle corn, which she wasn’t expecting, but popcorn was popcorn. 

As they munched Max poked fun at her constantly. “All I’m saying is you’re practically the same person… Elle _Lavellan_ , Elle _Woods_ , law school, an unhealthy obsession with pink…” she was saying as Elle and Solas both reached for the last kernels.

Their hands brushed and she remembered their last movie night, months ago, when she’d been so afraid of losing him that she thought an accidental touch might be enough to tip him over the edge. This time, she grabbed his hand, just because she could. She gave him a smile and squeezed his hand. He smirked and watched her as he lifted her hand to his mouth. He kissed the salt off of one of her fingertips, and when he repeated it on the second finder she felt the scrape of teeth and her heart pounded so loud she almost missed her cousin continuing under her breath.

“…questionable taste in men…” 

“Max!” Elle shoved the laptop, jostling the webcam. 

“Kidding!” Max said, unconvincingly. 

Elle looked to Solas, squeezing his hand that was still in hers before dropping it. He gave her a small smile, so she judged he wasn’t too upset by the exchange. Except that her other fingers remained untasted.

Elle moved the laptop to the floor, and the bowl, and used the free space to cuddle up with her boyfriend. She rested her head against his shoulder and was rewarded with a gentle kiss on the top of her head. Warmth filled her, and she felt silly for getting giddy over such a small gesture. They’d kissed plenty of times by now. 

Not much beyond that, though… And not the back-bending way he’d kissed her under the street lights the night she’d admitted her feelings.

She didn’t usually experience sexual attraction, or lust, or whatever. Not when she was single, anyway. She’d decided she must fall somewhere on the asexual or grey-ace spectrum. Whatever she was, she certainly felt _‘it’_ when Solas was around, but so far he seemed pretty dead-set on taking things slow. This new fingertip development was the first sign that she wouldn’t be doomed to gentlemanly kisses for eternity.

The movie went on. The late winter sun quickly gave up, the light fading until they snuggled in the dark. Max complained about her demotion to the floor when she eventually noticed. Elle piped up occasionally about the inaccuracies of the movie’s interpretation of what law school was like, and also what was fairly accurate. Solas found a blanket and wrapped both it and his arms around Elle. 

Her fingers had found a little strip of skin where his shirt had ridden up, and she rested her hand there teasingly. At some point the warmth of his body against hers became… Distracting. 

Elle nudged him with her elbow during the Bend & Snap scene. Jokingly, testingly, she asked, “Is that what I have to do to get your attention?”

“I assure you, the Snap is unnecessary…” The arm wrapped around her back dipped and squeeze low enough on her hips that it _might_ count as her butt. “But the Bend…”

Something about the way he was looking down at her made her think he was definitely picturing her bent over. She leaned up to kiss him. It was a normal kiss, though, slow, but over quickly. He did not move his hand anywhere more interesting. Nor did he move it away, though, and that was something.

She did it again a few minutes later, lingering a bit as she slowly ran her hand up and down his thigh. The next time she kissed him it was on his neck instead of his lips. 

He hissed in a breath. “Vhenan…” he whispered, presumably as to not alert Max, who was giggling something.

“Yes?” she breathed into his ear before nipping at it. 

He turned his head to catch her mouth. The hand at her ‘hip’ tightened its grip on her. She moved into a less awkward position and found her way under his shirt with both hands, enjoying the way his muscles clenched at her touch. His free hand similarly crept under the hem of her t-shirt, his thumb caressing her. 

She was plotting how to best get them both out of said shirts, hands going to his buttons, when his tongue slipped past her lips. Lust lanced through her so hard that she yanked back to slam a hand against her mouth to — just barely — smother a moan. 

Dirthamen damn it! Why must she always be so vocal when fooling around?

She looked at him, ready to laugh at herself, but got distracted by the way his eyes looked so dark with his pupils blown wide, and the way he was watching her intently. 

He moved, surging forward and kissed her again, hand at the nape of her neck. His urgency made keeping quiet difficult, but she didn’t want to stop so she did her best. She found it was easier to control herself when she was controlling the situation so she didn’t hold back; she let her tongue do the plundering. She felt more than heard his own rumbly groan, and she decided she liked that a whole lot.

And then his hands were touching, pushing, guiding her until she was laying flat on the couch and he was half on top of her. Her hands roved his body, grabbed his ass, but truthfully she was focused primarily on being _quiet_. 

But then his thigh, positioned between her legs, rode up against her and—

She reached down and _slammed_ the laptop shut, hoping against hope that the sound cut off before Max heard her embarrassingly wanton shout. 

“Again, do that again,” she panted. 

Solas, pupils wide and lips parted, moved against her again. “Like this?”

Elle whined in response. Not _no_ , because yes this thigh rubbing against her was great, but it also wasn’t the same… She shifted her hips and rose to meet him, and — “ _Yes!_ ”

She did it again, and again. Creators, there was something in his pocket and it was hitting her center so perfectly through all their layers of clothes. Solas had the spot now and his movements were deliberate and steady and perfect against her as she fell into helpless moans, his erection grinding into her hip. Who knew dry humping could feel freaking incredible? 

“I love…” he cut himself off with a groan against her neck and she tensed, but then he said, “I love the noises that you make.”

“Kiss me,” she demanded, since apparently he was damn good at taking directions. He did, and made a noise deep in his throat. “Your lips are cold,” he told her.

She chuckled, panting. “I guess all my blood rushing, ah, elsewhere…” 

They kissed again, hard, all tongues and teeth, until she had to turn away to cry out. Despite his dedication she was impatient, so she brought his hand to her breast, pinching her other nipple experimentally. She could feel his eyes on her but check hers closed, focusing on the feel of him cupping and squeezing, his stifled grunts, the muscle of his ass in her hand as it flexed again and again, the smell of him… 

When she came she shouted his name as she bucked carelessly against him, because he seemed like he’d be into that sort of thing. And, honestly, it felt good, his name on her lips making it burn just a bit hotter. She said it again as she came down from the intensity of it. 

He was kissing her softly, and she knew from the heat of his lips that hers must still be cold. She blinked open her eyes, and he pulled back to look at her. 

“Never thought I’d be jealous of a set of keys before…”

She laughed and reached to where his cock pressed against her hip, eager to return the favor. 

He sat up. “Max will be waiting on us.”

She grinned and moved with him, trailing small kisses along his jaw. “She’ll be fine,” she said, running a hand up his slacks. 

His hand stopped hers. “We should finish the movie…”

Elle pulled back, trying to read his face. They both knew no one cared about the movie. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just…” He looked flushed. 

“ _Solas_.” She gave him a stern look, and his jaw worked, but he said nothing. She wriggled her fingers, still pinned under his. “We can stay above the clothes still…”

But he shook his head. “Please, I just… I’d rather we put the movie back on.”

Her gut twisted. She didn’t know what was going on, and she didn’t like that. 

But, because he insisted, she called Max back anyway, and after some lie about technical issues they re-synced the movie. 

She grabbed a pillow and gestured for Solas to lay down on the couch, because she was at least going to get some spooning out of this. 

When she nestled in front of him, though, they both had to pretend not to notice that he was still hard… Or mostly hard, anyway. It took every. last. ounce. of willpower not to grind her butt into him, it really did. She wanted nothing more than to get him going again, to see what it would take to get him to give in. Would he still say no if she straddled him? What if she was naked?

A little bit of squirming into him every few minutes would probably keep him erect the rest of the movie… 

She just clenched her knees together; he’d said no, and that was that.

But as soon as she’d calmed down enough to get her mind out of the gutter, somewhere around Elle Wood’s graduation, she began to grow anxious. He’d also been reluctant their first time together... And there had been a good reason for it back then! He had been _right_ not want to let it get that far before, given the secrets he’d been keeping…

So, why was he holding back this time?

When the credits rolled she said goodnight to Max without moving from her spot under Solas’ arm. A glance over her shoulder had confirmed her suspicions that he’d fallen asleep some time ago. 

She sighed as she slowly grabbed the remote and shut off the TV. She’d hoped to talk to him after, but she wouldn’t wake him over it. Besides, if she woke him up he would sleep in his own bed tonight, and she quite liked him where he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elle was not in any way modeled after Legally Blonde, but the coincidences amuse me. 
> 
> This fic is dedicated to the keys in my boyfriend’s pocket that gave me my first with-a-partner orgasm.


	3. *The More Things Change...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas continues to hold back, and Elle confronts him on it. Explicit, porn with (angsty) feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative title is ‘Baggage’. 
> 
> Unstoppable Force (fear of rejection) meets an Unmovable Object (fear of commitment).

Two weeks passed, and they never really talked about why Solas had stopped that night. Elle had broached the subject a few times, but he’d deflected, and she’d let him; perhaps there really wasn’t much to say other than he wasn’t ready yet. When he said it, when they were together, it made sense. And she was honestly too exhausted to press the issue. But, sometimes, alone in her bed, the anxiety of not knowing what was holding him back had her overthinking instead of sleeping.

Most of the time, though, she was too busy to think, or sleep, or much of anything else. She’d always heard law school is difficult from day one, and then she’d gone and started a semester late. She’d started behind, and though she spent nearly every waking hour working on the backlog she was just barely keeping afloat. If, indeed, she _was_ staying afloat. Some of her professors certainly didn’t think so…

Tonight she was at his place again. She spent a fair amount of time here, simply doing homework near him. She didn’t feel so overwhelmed when he was around. Still stressed, perhaps, but manageable, and he never complained about the hours of silence as they worked on completely different things.

This time she was on his couch, doing some research. She was stretched out, resting her legs in his lap, just like she’d done back when they’d frequented a bench at the duck pond. Unlike those days, now as Solas read student essays from a tablet he also stroked his hand up and down her legs. 

It had started as comfortable affection, but now his fingers traced her skin lightly in a very distracting way. Maybe under normal circumstances it wouldn’t be so noticeable, but the lack of sex had her going crazy. She normally never thought about sex, never _wanted_ sex when outside a relationship. So, thus far in her life, she had very little experience with being in the mood and not being able to take it out on her partner! As if she didn’t have enough going on without having to deal with this perpetual unsatisfied feeling…

She watched him over her laptop, and instead of his own screen she caught him watching his hand as if drifted just a tiny bit farther up her thigh. 

“Distracted?” 

His eyes shot up, and he looked abashed, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Elle burst out laughing before he could answer.

“Sorry,” he said, ears flushing adorably. “You have beautiful legs. They’ve always been, uh, a distraction for me, as you said.”

“Really?” She looked down at the legs in question. She never wore pants if she could help it, but it wasn’t because she thought her legs were anything special. She didn’t wear skirts, either; she just felt uncomfortable with any kind of restriction on them, only trading her shorts for leggings if it was below freezing out — and sometimes not even then. “Well, if you like them they’re all yours.” She lifted up one of her legs to present it to him.

He chuckled and caught it with a hand under her calf and then pressed a kiss to it. 

She needed a break anyway, so she set her laptop on the coffee table and sat up to give him a kiss. When their lips parted they grinned at each other like a couple of idiots, but then her heart rate picked up when he had that look like he was going to say… _it_ , but instead he kissed her again, slower this time. She braced her arm on the couch as the kiss continued and the heat built. By the time his hands continued their roaming her heart was thumping for an entirely different reason. 

When a small moan escaped the back of her throat his mouth became urgent on hers. He twisted towards her in his seat for a better position and she shifted so that one of her legs was on either side of him just so she could run one up his side teasingly. Neither paid attention to the thud of a fallen tablet. 

Her hands ran over everything she could reach, up and down his chest, his biceps. He kept pressing closer and closer until she was forced to lean back, shoulders against the arm of the couch behind her. 

He had access to her inner thighs now, and was taking full advantage. His fingers gripped her, pressing deep, and it wasn’t really the feel of his touch so much as the restrained hunger of it that sent fire and tension through her until she couldn’t think. 

Then a thumb pressed into the inseam of her shorts, rubbing against her nerves as she whined into his mouth, and Solas made a noise that could have been a groan or a curse against her lips. Elle wasn’t surprised he could feel the heat and humidity through the fabric. She moved her hips against him shamelessly. 

Then she gasped as the finger from both his hands slid under her shorts and his thumbs slid against her sex through her cotton underwear. 

She moaned and bucked and he buried his face in her neck and slid his thumbs over her again. And then she shouted as he slipped under her panties and into her slick folds. He worked her easily, a thumb on either side of her clit, pinching it between them, and Elle thought she’d explode. Between the moans she couldn’t smother she kissed whatever she could reach of him, licked the edge of his ear, bit his shoulder through his shirt. 

She could tell that his own hips were canting against the couch, against nothing, and it drove her crazy with need. She managed to reach between them and grabbed his cock through his pants and he groaned right in her ear in a way that made all her core clench. Rubbing him like this while he worked her clit… Dammit, Creators, it only made her need more. 

She moved to the fly of her shorts, frantically unzipping herself so she could yank her shorts down—

— only his hands didn’t move, making it impossible. She pulled again. “Solas…” But he was resisting her, and then he scraped his teeth against her neck, and then it was too late. She came, crying his name and arching against him as her walls clenched around nothing. 

His thumbs slowed, gentled as her oversensitive nerves made her jerk, and she kissed him hard and grateful. Her hands immediately returned to him, one struggling with his fly as she enthusiastically groped him with the other, loving the hard feel of his shaft. He groaned and pressed his hips against her palm. 

But then he broke the kiss as she undid the button. “Wait—”

She waited, unzipping him as she pulled back to look at him, waiting for him to ask about birth control or whatever he was worried about. 

He grabbed her wrist as her hand drifted halfway into his pants. “Wait. I–I can’t, I—”

He sat up abruptly, pulling away from her. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I—it’s nothing. I…” He let out a rushed breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to do this.”

Oh. This time had felt different, but apparently…

“O–okay… Are you sure?” She moved closed and rested a hand on his chest in a way she hoped was comforting. It felt almost like he shuddered under her touch. He covered her hand with his as if to keep it still. “Because a minute ago you sure—”

He stood, practically flinging her hand away. 

“Ir abelas. I’ll—I’ll be right back…”

She watched him bolt down the hall, heard the bathroom door all but slam. 

“Yeah okay, sure…” she said flatly to the empty room. 

What was going on with him?

She heard the bathroom faucet as she sat dumbfounded on the couch. She was still reeling from the sudden stop, the sudden cold only seconds after the heat of an orgasm. She felt awkward, just waiting for him to come back. She picked up the tablet. She heard splashing, most likely indicating that he was washing his hands or face. 

Wait — why was the faucet running this whole time if he was just now using the water? 

Using the noise to cover up something else was the most obvious answer. She hadn’t told Solas, but she’d just used that trick in the school bathroom earlier this week when she’d been too overwhelmed and didn’t want anyone to know she was crying. 

His face was dry when he stepped back into the hall, though. She tried to be subtle (though likely failed) as she glanced at his crotch. He did not appear to still be sporting an erection. 

“Are we going to talk about it?” she asked, instead of what she _wanted_ to ask, which was ‘did you just jerk off in the bathroom??’.

He nodded. “I suspect we should.”

He continued to stand there. 

“Well?” When he hesitated again she thumped her hand on a cushion. “ _Sit_ , Solas.”

He moved to the couch, sitting where he had been before. Too much space between them. She waited for what felt like quite some time for him to say something. 

“Fine, I guess _I’ll_ start then…” she said, trying to make it clear with her tone how unfair she thought it was that she was having to take the lead on this. Her stomach tied in a knot but she needed to just get it out, so she took a breath breath and asked softly, “When you said you don’t want to do ‘this’… Did you — Did you mean ‘us’?”

“No! No, of course not. I meant…” He gestured vaguely to the length of the couch. “Vhenan, why would you think that?”

“Well what am I supposed to think!” she shouted, gesticulating wildly. “I don’t understand what’s going on with you! I always feel like I’m the one that did something wrong, like you’re holding yourself back or something, and now this, _again_ …”

“That’s exactly it, isn’t it?” he asked. “ _You’re_ not the one that was wrong.”

She blinked. “…And?”

“And I’m constantly reminded that I did, Elizabeth!”

“That not fair,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not like I’m trying to throw it in your face. I barely even mention what happened before!”

“But it’s there nonetheless, underneath the surface, and it comes up in little ways. You think of it, and so do—”

“Of course I think about it; you broke my heart, Solas. But I’m still here, I’m still trying — why am I the one on trial here?”

“You’re not on trial, it’s not — this isn’t some kind of punishment!” He pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated.

“Call it whatever you want, then. Why does it bother you when I touch you? Why do you keep running away screaming the second I try? I can’t be _that_ bad in bed.” 

“I was not screaming…” he muttered.

“Do you really think that was my point?” she snapped. “You’re withdrawing, or… Hiding from me. I don’t want you to hide from me. This can’t work if you’re holding back, you have to talk to me!”

He grabbed her arm; not hard enough to hurt, but it got her attention. He was looking at her intently, eyes piercing hers. “Do you really want me to not hold back, Elizabeth? Do you want me to tell you how I feel about you?”

She froze, eyes wide, as she realized her mistake. He sounded miserable, yet it still sounded like a threat to her stupid brain and the words to stop him were trapped in her throat. Oh Gods, he was going to say it, he’d say it and he’d expect her to say it back and—

She snatched her arm back. “Is that what this is all about, then?” she demanded. “You’re upset with me so you’re, what, withholding sex until I give you what you want?”

“What? No! I never said that. Elizabeth, I–I care about you a great deal and I’m just not ready to…”

She shot to her feet and began pacing, her own livid thoughts drowning him out as he continued with his excuses. Even as she did it she knew she was being unfair; Solas wasn’t Lace. This was a whole new relationship with whole new problems to deal with and, and he was giving her _reasons_ , not excuses. He wasn’t trying to manipulate her. Probably. Even though he was very good at that sort of thing. Manipulations and half truths and…

She couldn’t stop the feeling that he was trying to force her to prove something, or that he was ignoring her boundaries. But she forced herself to look past how it _felt_ and just think about the _logic_ behind what he was saying. They were two adults, having a conversation. And it wasn’t like he wasn’t allowed to have his own boundaries! It made sense, didn’t it? He didn’t want to have sex until he felt… Secure, maybe? 

Until she let him say it. And she said it back, presumably. It made her gnash her teeth to think of it that way but what he was really saying was he wanted to wait, wait until it was, like, lovemaking or something, she supposed. That was normal, right? Her fists clenched, every instinct telling her that this was a trick, but that was unfair, and he really did look genuinely baffled…

Creators, if she wanted to be merciful she should really just say it. It would make him happy, and then the other shoe would drop already. 

Ugh. No. He wasn’t like that, probably. Deep breaths… In, out… 

This was Solas. Her best friend, Solas. They needed to get past this. She went to his kitchen, poured a glass of water. Drained it, refilled it, and walked back to him. He was leaning forward, forearms braced on his knees, staring at his hands pensively. 

She set the glass on the coffee table in front of him. He looked up at her with a sad little smile and took a small sip.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice. I shouldn’t have; I wasn’t expecting to get so upset. I still want to talk about this,” she said, like the mature adult she was. He nodded and she sat beside him, leg bouncing before she forced herself herself to still. She took his hand and held it in her lap, looking across the room. Calmly, clearly, she said, “I don’t like that I don’t understand what’s going on with you. Can you tell me why you’re not comfortable with what we were doing before?”

He nodded again, and let out a breath. “I worry that you will regret it someday.”

“What– Am I doing to give you the impression I might?”

“It’s not anything you’ve done, Vhenan. But before, when we spent the night together, it was… It meant everything to me. And knowing that you regretted it aft—” His voice grew so heavy it caught in this throat.

She turned to him. “But I never said that. That I did.”

He met her eyes. “Tell me you didn’t,” he challenged. 

Her feelings at the time had been very confusing, still sort of were, and her mouth worked as she tried to think of how best to describe…

He nodded again, letting out a humorless huff. “Exactly.” He squeezed her hand and looked away again. “You hated me.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t hate you now, though.”

He pushed his next words out so hard that they broke, barely audible. “ _I do_.”

Oh… “Oh, Solas…” She leaned in, hugging him tight, tighter, lost for words again. She should say it. Three words, in Common or in Elven. He deserved to hear them. But no… Not like this. Even in ideal conditions the truth of it was she wasn’t ready, not really. She wasn’t sure yet. She couldn’t just use it as a platitude. “I’m sorry, I—”

“And I’m scared you’ll come to your senses,” he said, pushing forward, sounding determined to have it out. “And when that day comes, the idea that you might regret what happens now…”

She pulled back as he trailed off, eyes darting back and forth between his tearful eyes. She really didn’t think what they’d been doing counted as not-sex, but honestly he probably knew that. “I’m not planning on going anywhere, Solas. I’m here.”

He rested a hand on her thigh. “Thank you. It is hard for me to accept. I’ve… cared for you longer than you know, and I never thought I had any sort of chance to ever be with you. We got off to such a rough start, and then it was my age, and then because I assumed you were a lesbian and never bothered to ask you, and then—”

“In your defense I _also_ thought I was a lesbian at the time, so it wouldn’t have helped,” she said. Not the whole truth, but close enough. 

His lip quirked. They’d never talked about that, she supposed. “And then I was an idiot,” he finished. “And I never thought I’d see you again. Didn’t even want to hope to, considering how angry you were with me. And then then there you were, in my office, asking me to dinner…” He shook his head like it was a puzzle.

“And then, like, eleven weeks passed and everything is fine and we made out on the couch. Again.”

He chuckled. “Yes. But, I think I need more time…”

She released a breath and nodded. “Okay. Take all the time you need, Solas. But… I’m not comfortable with this one-sided business in the mean time, okay? If we’re going to wait, we need to both agree to keep our hands to ourselves. Deal?”

He smiled, nodded. “Deal.” He moved forward, kissed her lightly, then rested his forehead against hers. “Thank you.”

She wriggled her nose against his, eliciting another grin from him, and one from herself as well. She took his hand again, caressing the back of his fingers with her thumb as those three little words continues to flit around in her head.


	4. Arlathven - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas and Elle go camping, along with thousands of other elves. Solas gets punched in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry for having to bring up Corypheus/impeachment again.)

Solas was leaning against his car as he waited for Elle in the student parking lot. He could have waited inside it, of course, but this way he got to stretch his legs a bit, get some fresh air… 

“Hey!” Elle said as she found him and wrapped her arms around him in an simple embrace — the other reason he preferred to stand as he waited for her. She leaned up and he kissed her, because it felt like the natural thing to do. 

It was the same thing that had happened, what was it, a month ago? He’d been so sure that she’d change her mind about giving their relationship a shot after a few dates, and he’d intended to hold back in anticipation of that inevitability. It would be easier that way. But then on a day just like this one he’d gone to meet her and she’d wrapped her arms around him and he’d just bent to kiss her without realizing it — though the moment his lips touched hers he’d become hyper aware of it, of course, unable to think of anything else. 

Since then he got to hold her just like this every time he saw her. He was still a little flabbergasted by that; he’d really never thought they’d reach this point. He wished he could be certain that she really wanted to be where they were, or was simply too preoccupied with law school to give it much thought. They only really saw each other a few hours a week, after all.

He kissed her again, not ready to let go just yet. He lingered, deepening the kiss, and she popped up on her toes and pressed closer to him. They’d made a deal to take it slow, but Solas was willing to risk just a bit more when they were in public, knowing neither would let it get too far… 

Not like it had before. Twice.

But then, as he ran his tongue along her bottom lip, she made a delicious little moan deep in her throat. He didn’t even know if she realized it when she did that, but it drove in crazy in the best and the worst of ways every time. Sounds like that had been the reason he’d let things get to far before. It was encouragement, approval, an audible expression that she wanted more… 

Solas pulled back before this thoughts could drift too far into all the noises he could elicit from her. He pressed a small kiss to her nose, then moved to open the car door for her. They climbed in, and as they buckled seatbelts and he started the car Elle asked, “Did you get a chance to look at that article I sent you?”

“No. It is behind a paywall, so I thought I would wait until I had the opportunity to ask you about it.” He’d given serious thought to signing up for a subscription, as the news organization seemed to focus on elven (including Dalish) news, but he wanted Elle’s opinion of the company before he invested in it. “Though the headline seemed to reference an early Arlathven?”

“Oh, right, forgot about that. Don’t worry about it then,” she said. “Arlathven is every ten years, as you know, and the next one is supposed to be in four years, but the Keepers in Orlais have decided to hold an emergency one — a Mig’lathven — in response to the election, and most of the out-of-country clans are already joining in.”

He snorted as he pulled out of the parking lot. That seemed like overreacting, but he knew better than to say as much. “Corypheus has already been inaugurated. What are they hoping to accomplish by meeting this summer?” Oops. That may have come out more derisive than intended. He could feel her glaring hotly at him from the passenger seat. He pretended not to notice. “Seems it would have been wiser to meet while he was still campaigning.” 

“It’s not like they did nothing against his campaign, Solas,” she said cooly. “A Mig’lathven is a big deal. They’re not going to call one until it’s necessary.”

“Of course, Vhenan.”

She rolled her eyes. “And it’s not this summer, by the way. It starts the first weekend of next month.”

“Next… But it is the middle of a semester!”

She shrugged.

He dared a glance at her. “They haven’t exactly given you much notice.”

She shrugged again. “They gave what they could. It takes time to organize thousands of people. They only just set the date today, and Deshanna has already emailed me about it.”

Solas’ fingers tapped impatiently on the steering wheel as he tried to remember what he had scheduled for next month. They were in the middle of the spring semester, so he had his standard class load on top of his research and his grad students. When was the dissertation due, again…?

As he drove them to the restaurant Elle excitedly discussed what clans had already joined and who she expected to see there and what she expected to happen. It was to be in a very large campsite the Free Marches; they’d used that location before, and the Keepers agreed it was better to meet outside of Corypheus’ territory. All registered clan members were invited, though Elle didn’t expect there to be nearly as many as at a true Arlathven; it was hard to imagine anyone sailing up from Ferelden for this. 

“I imagine it’ll be shorter, too,” she was saying as they arrived. Solas held first the car door open for her, then the door of the diner. “Normally there’s this big opening ceremony and the whole first weekend is just dancing and food. Like half the people leave after that, and all the tourists. I’m thinking we’ll be skipping most of that. Then it’s all council meetings and updates and planning. By the last weekend pretty much only the elders are left, wrapping up with some religioius ceremonies. Including vallaslin rites, but again I’m not sure that’ll be the case this time.”

“So you think it will be shorter than the standard nine days?” he asked hopefully.

“Sixteen days,” she corrected distractedly as she searched the diner. “Three weekends, not two.”

“Three!”

She placed a hand on his shoulder after successfully spotting the restrooms. “I’ll be right back, go ahead and sit.”

He watched her walk away, wondering how much of the Arlathven she intended to stay for.

No, that wasn’t true. She would intend to stay for all of it. He sighed as he chose an empty booth. He ordered a couple of waters from the waitstaff, and accepted the menus.

He had no idea how he could manage to take so much time off mid-semester. Yes, the department made arrangements when they loaned him out to the archaeology department or occasionally to lecture in other colleges, but he had a feeling they would not be so willing when it was for a personal fancy. He couldn’t even claim heritage rights; no one would believe he was Dalish.

And he was still on thin ice as it was. He’d done a far amount to rebuild his reputation, and the lawsuit had been dropped, and he’d eventually gone on that fateful dig (though they were displeased at his late acceptance). And, fortunately, no one seemed to suspect him of sabotage, even those that spread rumors about it being an inside job. He’d been surprised by just how easy it was to fight back without anyone noticing; who would suspect the mild-mannered tenored professor?

But, more impotant than his own career…

Elle rejoined him. She automatically pulled a notebook out of her bag as she sat and began perusing the already well-worn pages of black ink and pink highlighter. She nearly always did this as they waited for food, or for her bus, or any other time she had the chance. He knew she was taking her studies seriously. Surely she knew this was a bad idea?

Slowly, he reached across the table and gently laid a hand over hers before she could turn the page. He waited for her to meet his eyes before he spoke. “You can’t take that much time off from school, ma vhenan.”

“Arlathven attendence falls under my protected civil rights under the Discrimination Protection Act,” she replied automatically, clearly rehearsed.

“Yes, it does,” he replied steadily, giving her hand a squeeze. “But I believe most of that Act is in reference to employment and public schools, not missing coursework from a law school. Also, an Arlathven only takes place every tenth _summer_ , when many students are out of class. In any case, are you sure a Mig’lathven qualifies the same as an Arlathven?”

“Why wouldn’t it?” She pulled her hand back to fidget with her hair. “I’m… I’m looking into it. I sent some emails today, to Leliana and Deshonna…”

He nodded. “Of course. I hope you get an answer quickly. I’m sure Syhold Law has access to some very knowledgeable lawyers.” 

He’d meant that to mean ‘it would be good to ask them’ but it came out sounding like ‘so if the law isn’t solid they’ll get you on it’. 

He sighed. “Perhaps you could ask Masters Tethras or Pavus?”

“I thought about it…” she admitted. “It falls in their wheelhouse. But I hate to bother them after they’ve done so much for me, you know? I don’t want to look unappreciative.”

The waiter came over, and they both ordered what they always did. Elle worried at her braid for several quiet seconds after the waiter left before saying, “It’ll count. I doubt there’s as little precident as you think. And, if not, I’ll just have to set the precedent myself.”

“That will take time.”

“So? It can be done retroactively.”

“ _So,_ that doesn’t help you if you’ve already been expelled. Think, Elizabeth.”

Her eyes flashed and she dropped her braid. “They’re my people, Solas. I’m going to be there.”

“I know — I’m not saying you should ignore it. But… Do you need to stay the entire even? Will it really make a difference if you only attend a few days and then leave with the others?”

“I… Yes!” she said, though she sounded uncertain. “This is huge. Historic. I want to be there.”

“Of course. I will support you, whatever your choice. I just want to make sure you’re thinking of your future.”

“I am. My future isn’t just graduating law school, Solas. I want to be First one day.”

He didn’t know what else to say to that, so he let the subject drop with a sigh. “I was looking at some maps while you were in the restroom. There are plenty of flights available from here, but the campsite is over an hour from the airport. I imagine that with thousands of Dalish flying in the car rentals will go quickly, so we’ll need to make a reservation as soon as—”

“…We?” she interrupted. “You’re coming too?”

He blinked. “Oh. I’m sorry, I should have assumed… Do you want me to be there? Is– are outsiders even allowed to—”

“Yes, of course! It just didn’t seem like you were on board, and I know you’re busy…”

They shared a look, and this time she was the one to reach for his hand. He took it happily. “Of course I am ‘on board’. As I said, I’ll support your decision, Vhenan. I do still need to discuss the time off with the university… I may only be able to join you on weekends.”

He saw her skeptical look, and he supposed it wasn’t particularly practical to take a flight to-and-from the Marches to stay for only a single night, but if that was what it took…

“It’s okay if you can’t go,” she said. “I’m just… Really glad you want to, is all.”

Solas smiled at her as he brushed a iss over the back of her fingers. Didn’t she know by now that he’d follow her to the ends of the earth?

~~~~~

Two and a half weeks later their plane landed in Wildervale in the Free Marches. They picked up their rental; a white pickup truck that would undoubtedly get terrible mileage but would hopefully do well on the unpaved roads up near the Vinmarks. They ended up picking up two other groups — a man traveling alone that had stunned to find out there were no vehicles left to rent, and then a family of three they’d found next to a broken minivan on the side of the road up the mountain. The truck had an extended cab, but even so it felt like he could barely move. At least there was plenty of room for the luggage in the back. And being pressed against Elle as she straddled the stick shift certainly wasn’t the worst position he’d been in…

Still he was grateful when, nearly two hours later (thanks to so many slow-moving campers), they’d finally dropped off the others and made it to their own camping spot so he could get out and stretch his legs at last. 

He had vastly underestimated Arlathven. The site was huge, for starters. The rolling hills made it hard to navigate, but at one point they’d crested a ridge and clearly seen the giant white rental tents that marked where most of the festivities would take place. Some were interspersed amongst hundreds and hundreds of family-sized tents and RVs and campers, all evenly spaced in their numbered spots. A dozen of the event tents were gathered together in… Well, there weren’t really enough trees to call it a meadow, but a large clearing in the center of it all.

Solas and Elle were in the area that was more-or-less designated to Clan Lavellan, and Elle had finally stopped complaining about how her mother had decided not to attend last minute, and was now excitedly pointing out the Keeper’s tent and the people she recognized.

He stayed quiet. He had never, not once, seen so many elves in one place, with out without vallaslin. The few non-elves he could see looked almost out of place. He found himself unexpectedly effected by it. He’d spent his life studying ancient elvhen cultures, when their populations had been much denser, and he’d _thought_ he had a good picture of what life was like in those days… But this was something he had not truly been able to imagine until he was standing in it. 

Despite his chosen research, ‘elf’ had never been a particularly important part of his identity to him. Growing up with pointed ears and being tossed between elven and human foster families had ensured he didn’t feel particularly connected to either. He studied ancient Arlathan because it was fascinating, not in some desperate attempt to understand his origins. 

But as he spun in a circle, taking it all in for a moment, he felt a connection to it all in a way he couldn’t explain. Elle was right; this was historic. 

Soon, though, the almost elated feeling ebbed, replaced by an uneasiness. He was suddenly relieved at the Keepers’ insight in hosting this event well outside Orlais’ borders. Gathering such a large percentage of the elven population in one place felt almost… dangerous.

As he scanned the area he saw a figure nearby, crouched and half-hidden behind a cement picnic table.

He hid his smirk, pretending not to notice the flash of blonde hair, and subtley stepped away from his girlfriend.

The attacker took the opportunity to lunge for Elle’s back, trying to tackle her from behind. Elle managed to keep her balance even as she erupted in laughter. Her legs were strong, and she managed to hold them both upright as her assailant clung to her back. “Ma _aax!_ ”

“Hey, cuz!” Max Lavellan said as she detangled herself and landed her feet on the ground. “About time you got here!”

The two shared what was clearly a rib-crushing embrace, clinging for a long minute of ‘I missed you’s and childish insults. Solas felt a pang in his chest, and he looked away to give them privacy.

He checked his phone, hoping against hope that here was a signal up here so he could still get work done sometime — but no. He’s expected that, of course, but being able to still answer emails and reach the school portal would have helped significantly as far as keeping both his job and his vhenan happy.

He was starting to unload some of their supplies from the truck when he heard Elle tell Max, “I still have to go check in with Keeper Deshonna. Why dont you show SOlas where you parked your dad’s truck so he can help you carry the tents back?”

Max glanced over at him and they locked eyes for a moment, relunctance written clearly in her expression. “I’ll just drive them over later.”

“Oh come one, Frog Face. There’s no where else to park over here anyway, and if you move it you might lose your spot. Plus I want to get all set up so we can relax tonight before we have to get up at dawn all week.” Uieter, enough so that she probably did not intend for Solas to hear, she added, “We’re all sharing a tent; it’s not like you can avoid him forever…”

“Yeah, sounds good Druffalo Breath,” she said flatly, crossing her arms. To Solas she simply said, “I parked over here.”

She turned and walked away, and he followed, cutting through several camping spots full of people — of Clan Lavellan — setting up their own accomodations. Soon Max was climbing into the bed of an old beat-up truck parked beside a camping trailer. She began digging through the various bags.

“Came down here with my uncles in their trailer,” she said by way of explanation. “Most of this is theirs, but — here, grab this orange one. And that black one in the corner with the straps.”

After a few minutes of sorting they were headed back; tents, camp chairs, and food supplies in hand. Max avoided eye contact but she wasn’t outright unfriendly, and split the weight evenly between them even though he tried to take the heaviest bags. They headed back to their campsite in silence. 

Solas knew he deserved Max’s ire, so he said nothing to try to assuage it. Besides, what could he say? ‘I’m sorry you were arrested’? ‘I didn’t mean to break her heart’? ‘Please, I love her, tell me what to do…’?

~~~

Hours later it was technically dusk, though ther was plenty of light left in the day. Elle hadn’t taken long with her meeting with Deshanna only because the Keeper had followed her back to greet Max. And him, of course. The women talked for ages, catching up on nothing in particular, and Solas played the charming, dutiful boyfriend. He knew her opinion was important to Elle, which made Solas eager to set a good first impression. Or second, perhaps, as Deshanna seemed to know who he was already.

As soon as the Keeper stepped away others came; Elle’s distant family, old friends, the distant family of old friends who still somehow recognized her… An endless suplly of names and faces and connections. He felt like an outsider, like he had no right to join in, so he focused instead on erecting the tent.

Which, given the hand-me-down tent with half the poles broken and the other half clearly belonging to an entirely different set, took quite a bit of effort. He made two more trips to Max’s father’s truck to dig through the bags looking for the correct items. This, of course, eventually led to meeting the uncles, and without Elle there as a buffer — more names and faces. He still had no idea which one was a blood relative and which was his husband, not that it particularly mattered. He pondered absently over their position to Elle’s in the family tree.

Eventually the tent was up. He had approximately ninety seconds in which he and Elle were alone and he buried himself in her arms, and then she was off again, leaving him alone. He didn’t know where Mac had gone.

With nothing else to do he ducked into the tent. He was surrounded by a mountainside of people all chatting and laughing and playing, the sound echoing off the hills. Somehow it was still peaceful despite the noise, and he was content to enjoy the relative solitude. 

The tent was a garish shade of orange and in decent shape. The bag had said this was a six-person tent, though that was debatable. It was large enough for the three of them, in any case., and he could almost stand in the middle He might as well set up the sleeping bags.

Right as Solas was unrolling the last one he heard footsteps approaching on the gravel. He looked up as someone lifted the tent flap, hoping he could sneak another moment alone with Elle, but it was her cousin who ducked into the tent.

They stared at each other wearily for a second too long. “Elizabeth said she’ll be back in—”

Max took one step towards him and punched him in the face. 

Solas reeled, instinctively stepping back as he blinked away blinding stars. He pressed a hand to his stinging cheek, trying to prepare himself if she striked again, but no — Max was doubled over her bunched fist. She straightened with a hiss and a soft, “Ah, _fuck_ ,” as she shook out her hand.

Evidentally throwing punches wasn’t something she did often. Lucky him. He rubbed his cheekbone, wondering if he’s get a bruise. “Is your hand alright?”

“Shut up!” she snapped. “Don’t act like you care about– _gods, that really hurt…_ It was worth it! I hope it hurt you!”

“Of course it did, you _punched_ me.” He didn’t bother hiding his irritation.

“Good!” she snapped again. “You deserve it after what you did. I can’t believe you’d just — just show up here like nothing happened. Like I’m supposed to forget that you lied to her and had us arrested and sold you soul to some—some soul-sucking corporation. And then lied about it!”

Solas’ anger was quelled by the familiar guilt that stabbed him in the gut. She was right, of course; he had this coming. “I know. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorr–”

“ _I. Don’t. Care._ I don’t give a _shit_ if you’re sorry, Solas. You betrayed her, and I’m not falling for this,” she frantically gestured up and down at him with her good hand, the other still curled against her, “This ‘nice guy’ routine of yours. Maybe she forgave you but I sure as Dirthamen’s dick aren’t going to. Elle deserves better. You fucking… You broke her…”

He lowered his hand, nodding softly. “I know. I broke her heart.”

“Not just her heart; you broke _her_ , you bastard! I’ve known her my whole life — I was there when she broke up with Tamlen, and Shianni, and I know every messed-up detail about what happened between her and lace and none of it comes close to how fucked up she was last fall. They may have hurt her but they didn’t fuck with who was as a person.  
“Do you have any idea how messed up she was? Do you? How messed up it is to find out someone you’re close with, someone you’re screwing, is lying to you on– like– a daily basis, and you never even suspected? That’s not even gaslighting, it’s– it’s… And it was right after losing that fucking election she was so worked up over!”

There was a pause, but Solas stayed silent; he had no defense against her tirade. His heart sank lower into his gut with every word but be didn’t allow himself to look away from Max’s eyes, as angry and accusing as they were. This was someone who loved Elle deeply… And she hated him.

As well she should. What was he doing here?

“She almost tucked tail and came running back to the rez,” Max said, somewhat calmer now as she studied her knuckles. “She’d deny it if anyone else asked, but I know. She was questioning everything… She already does so damn much research on every little thing but thanks to you she found out she’s _gullible_. That she’s fallible, and doesn’t always know everything. Which — yeah, no one does, but this wasn’t the healthy sort or realization. She said she couldn’t believe anything anymore, no matter the sources, so what was the point of even trying? Or fighting to make things better. She was giving up about caring at _all_ , about anything.  
“She was days away from dropping out of school, giving up all her big plans just so she could come home and… What? Do nothing. Maybe work in my papae’s stupid shop with me and waste her life like me. That’s not Elle. She’s made of better stuff than that. Than me. Or you. Mythal enaste that she got that law scholarship in time.”

Solas nodded lamely, if only to show that he was listening, no longer able to pretend that his eyes were watering due to the blow. He hadn’t realized…

“Thank you for telling me this, Maxine.”

“Screw you. Stop pretending to be nice,” she replied automatically, though there was no heat in it. She shook out her hand one last time and dropped her arms to her sides. She met his eyes and said, “I’ll pretend like I don’t hate your guts for her sake, but I needed to make sure you knew better. And, sooner or later, when this is all over, I’ll be there to pick up the pieces of her. Again.”

She ducked out of the tent and left him alone to deal with the stinging pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character’s views do not necessarily reflect the views of the author (there’s nothing wrong with just working in a shop your whole life, Max).
> 
> A version of this big gathering camping trip has been in my mind since before I had a proper outline for @theDuckPond — possibly before Elle even had a name. It was cut for a lot of heavy reasons I won’t get into here, but when I realized that I could have a version of it with an Arlathven I was pretty happy! It’s a lot different than it would have been, but even so it feels good to include it in their story.


	5. *Arlathven - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions abound as the crew struggles to communicate at camp. Elle has it out with Solas, then Max, then Solas again. Solas and Elle talk about their feelings, and then it gets a explicit at the end. Assisted masturbation?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that DA takes place in the Southern hemisphere, meaning north is warmer.

Elle was having a great week. 

She wasn’t a ‘social butterfly’ exactly, but she did love to be around people, and for the last eight days she’d been surrounded not only by people, but _her_ People. Capital ‘P’ People. Anywhere she walked strangers would smile in greeting and she never once had to worry about her ears or vallaslin affecting their response. People everywhere introduced themselves by asking, “Who’s your family?” more than anything else, parties immediately finding the mutual branches of their family trees. She’d also had the chance to catch up with a dozen people she hadn’t seen since she’d left the reservation to go to college. She’d even met the Keeper of clans Sabrae and Morlyn! Deshanna had introduced them; she was pretty positive Deshanna fully intended to endorse Elle as a candidate for First one day, or Second maybe, and felt just a little giddy about it.

There were a lot of conferences. Elle went to as many as she could each day, focusing (of course) on the plans to help fight off the incoming storm of the new Orlesian president. Taskforces designated to raise money, raise awareness, raise hopes. Elle vowed to participate in every event that took place in Val Royeaux, and help out as much as possible with anything to do with impeachment. Cold calls, emails, anything. She wished she could promise more than that, but with law school…

If there was an hour or two where her schedule was free she happily jumped into a tent with something besides politics on the table, like lecturing historians or traditional crafters. She wasn’t particularly interested in trying to learn to weave or bead or embroider anything herself, but she loved to look at their handiwork, and bought a few pieces when she could. She _should_ be using the time to cram a little studying in, but she couldn’t help herself. 

Solas attended most of the taskforce conferences with her, though he’d skipped out on a few to ‘audit’ some oral history presentations. Once in the middle of the week he was gone almost the whole day, back into the city wifi with his laptop to get some work done. He’d also gone to a surprising number of children’s storytime hours, ‘enjoying the folklore’ as he said.

Max joined her in almost everything the first couple days, but quickly grew bored of the presentations as the week went on. They both knew that Max was mostly using this as an excuse to spend time with Elle. And, honestly, that was fine by her.

The nights were even better, full of great food and traditional Dalish dances — and some modern dancing, too. They attended nearly every night, scoping out different areas of the camp grounds to hit up the different clans. Elle wasn’t much of a dancer herself, but they mostly just went for Max, who was super into the musicians. Nestled side-by-side with Max and Solas, her two favorite people, Elle watched the celebrations contentedly.

It would be nicer if they got along, of course… It was obvious they couldn’t stand each other. She couldn’t really blame them; with Max’s veiled hostility it was easy to see why Solas would avoid her, and Max… Well, it was to be expected. She’d get over it eventually.

In the meantime they both suffered through it for her sake, which was sweet of them.

It did get to be a headache sometimes, though. The nights were cold, and that first night she’d zipped her sleeping bag to Solas’ so they could cuddle for warmth (or at least that had been her excuse). This had apparently been a mistake, as shortly after that her pissed-off cousin stormed out so suddenly that Elle barely had time to ask, “What’s wrong?” — Not that Max had answered her. She’d thought maybe she was using the latrine, but she never did come back. Elle had spent the whole night torn between worry over her cousin and the realization that it would much harder to behave herself in Solas’ sleeping bag without an audience…

She forgot sometimes that they were ‘avoiding sex’, her libido nestling comfortably into a non-sexual relationship, but being pressed up against him in a dark tent… Well, in the end it became clear they weren’t going to get any sleep that night if they stayed that way, so they separated their sleeping bags. The next morning she had… Not a fight, exactly, but her and Max exchanged words when Elle found out her cousin had spent the night sulking in the trailer with her uncles. After that Elle had stayed in her own bed but scooted near to Max to snuggle up and make her feel included, and even though he said nothing Elle could _feel_ Solas pouting from across the tent for the next several evenings.

Honestly, there was no winning with them. If she hung out with Max and her friends Solas stayed behind, and if she spent time with Solas her cousin would accuse her of ditching her. Max was perpetually sullen, and her boyfriend felt distant…

Whatever. She was still having a great time. And last night Max had hooked up with some drummer, so Elle and Solas had spent the night alone in the tent again. He seemed so happy when she suggested giving combing their sleeping bags another go that she couldn’t help but be on her best behavior; she didn’t want to force them apart by getting handsy again. 

Now, as dawn threatened and hundreds of campers quietly considered rising, she opened her eyes to see Solas sleeping. His face looked soft and peaceful, and there was a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth that she hoped she wasn’t imagining. It took all her strength not to kiss his adorable head, all fuzzy as it was. It must be hard to shave it while camping because he only bothered every other day or so. She wished she could reach her phone to take a picture. Surely having him like this was better than fooling around and making him come?

Her core clenched at the unbidden image — memory? — and tried to shift away from him. He made a quiet, sleepy protest and pulled her closer without waking and her damn heart melted. She should be getting up, using this time to study or prepare for the small presentation her Keeper asked her to make today in regards to the situation in Val Royeaux, but… Maybe just five more minutes.

She snuggled closer, and then her eyes went wide for a confused half second, but… Oh right. ‘Morning wood’ was a thing, huh? 

She carefully tried to extract herself, but Solas mumbled something and pulled her right back in. “Solas…”

“Vhenan… Five more minutes,” he complained into her hair, eyes still closed and arms holding her fast. “I like waking up with you here.”

“So do I, but I think you might like it a bit _too_ much.” She pressed her hips into his pointedly.

Maybe there had been a more diplomatic way out, but then she wouldn’t have gotten to watch the hint of pink in his cheeks as his eyes popped open. “Ah, I, uh, should have considered that...” He pulled back. “My apologies if I made you uncomfortable.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Not at his words — she’d expected that — but because he hadn’t really pulled back. Well, he did, but no farther than necessary, his hand still resting gently on her hip. And, despite the rose in his cheeks, he was still smiling softly at her like he was unashamed and in no hurry to go anywhere. 

Elle swallowed. “Um– No, I’m fine. That’s the best sleep I’ve gotten since we got here, actually,” she said, and it was true enough. Nothing made sleeping on the ground for a week comfortable, but spooning helped. She grinned and cupped a hand on his hip suggestively. “Waking up next to you is just an enjoyable side benefit.”

His laugh was so sudden he snorted and she could feel herself grinning like an idiot. “One best explored when we return home, perhaps.” He kissed her, just a brief simple kiss, before he hunted down the zipper of the sleeping bag so he could get up.

She, meanwhile, was still on the ground reeling. He meant sex, right? That he wanted to sleep together when they got back?

Creators she didn’t even care about the sex, but if he was talking about taking that step it meant he was feeling more comfortable being with her, and seeing him all-smiles after being distant this earlier this week… Well, that had to be a good sign. And that was great.

She got up, and they gathered their clothes and toiletry bags and hiked up to the latrines in their pajamas, trading friendly smiles with many others doing the same thing. They relieved themselves, got dressed, brushed their teeth in the giant metal outdoor sink that was more like a trough. She wondered if she’d have time for a shower today; the shower facilities were few and far between, leaving the lines incredibly long. She’d only bothered twice since they got here, and she was starting to feel really gross. 

As they quickly made their way back after getting dressed she detangled and brushed out her hair. She could have done it at the sink, but she preferred to be as far from downsind of the latrines as possible. Solas’ gaze kept sliding over to her, her hair, the brush, looking like he wanted to say something. 

“Yes?” she prompted.

“We’re running low on provisions. I’m not even sure we’ve enough water to make the coffee.”

“Oh. We’ll have to hit up the meal tents until we have a change to get more, then.”

He nodded. “I can pick up some while I’m in town today.”

“You’re going to town? What for?”

“To purchase our tickets home. Should I book us a flight for Saturday night, or would you prefer Sunday morning?” 

She stopped in her tracks even though there were just a few steps from their camping spot. “Uh, neither? We’ve got another week.”

She caught the small sigh he tried to hide, which irritated her ever more than his assumption. He walked a few more steps before stopping to look back at her. “Do you truly think it wise to stay so long?”

“Do you truly think it wise to assume I wouldn’t, when that’s exactly what I said I do?” she retorted as she walked past him, gravel crunching underfoot. She sat at the cement picnic table and started to rebraid her hair. “Why would I leave now?”

“Other than the chance to return to running water and a comfortable bed?”

“Solas,” she said flatly. He was trying to lighten the mood she knew, and she was keeping the reins on her temper, but sometimes Elle really wished Solas would just say what he meant.

He sighed, stepping closer so he could lower his voice, and she hated that he was standing and she was not. He was too damn tall. “I’m worried, Elizabeth. We have other obligations. What else do you hope to accomplish here that you haven’t done already?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing immediately came to mind. The conferences were already repeating themselves, the taskforces assigned… She distracted herself with finishing her braid, fingers flying through the motions they went through every morning at least a decade. A second later she was wrapping the hairtie around the ends and hadn’t come up with anything better than ‘because I belong here’. 

“I’m staying. You can do whatever you want,” she bit off, unable to make eye contact. She stood to walk to her Keeper’s tent.

“Oh for— really?” He said, as if she were an impertinent child. He shook his head, moving as if to follow her.

She whirled. “We already went over this! I’m not discussing this with you.”

“ _Clearly._ ”

She bristled, jaw clenching. There was a stand off, a few heartbeats of tension, before she said, “I don’t have time for this,” and left. This time he didn’t follow.

~~~~~

A few hours later, in a too-warm stuffy tent full of elders, Elle gave her presentation. ‘Presentation’ was too strong a word for it, really; it was hardly more than having a conversation with a large group of people. But she was given the floor, and she had notes and answered questions, so it felt a bit more real.

Real enough that Solas not being kind of sucked. Despite their squabble this morning she’d expected him, and when he hadn’t shown…

It didn’t matter. Max was there, smiling, and Deshanna was taking pictures.

The meeting ‘ended’ thirty minutes later, business done. But, really, after Deshanna left everyone else lingered at least another half hour, everyone chatting and catching up. Reiterating opinions and telling stories and just sharing gossip, and Elle was happy to stay and participate for all of it. She loved hearing about life in the other clans, and meeting the colorful characters that led them. 

Eventually Max had enough and claimed starvation as she dragged Elle away towards the meal tents. Lunch hour was ending, but they would still have something available. 

Elle let Max carry the conversation as they ate, which she did mostly by gushing about Tevin, her mysterious drummer from the night before. She didn’t even know what clan they were from, which concerned Elle — her cousin was clearly falling for this person, so Elle was worried about the either short-term or long-distance nature of the relationship, but she tried to be supportive. 

She ate quickly, hoping to go find Solas, but Max took her time. 

After a long pause in the conversation, over a bite of food, Max asked, “So where’s… You know.”

Elle crossed her arms. “His name is Solas. And I don’t know, at the tent probably.”

She looked skeptical. “I thought yesterday you said he was coming to your thing? Not that I’m complaining…”

“We… Had a bit of a fight this morning.”

Max raised her eyebrows as she scrapped the last of her beans onto her spoon. “So he ditched you? What an asshole!”

“He didn’t ditch me!” Gods she was getting tired of having to defend him to her! “He probably just needed some space. I did too. It’s not that big a deal.”

Her cousin scoffed. “That depends on how _much_ space, doesn’t it? When I stopped by the tent before heading to your thing I saw him packing up some stuff...”

Her attention snapped to her. “What? What stuff?”

Max shrugged. “I don’t know. I think he was putting a bag into the truck like he was going somewhere. I didn’t bother to ask him, but at the time I assumed you knew what he was up to.” 

She looked at her, and Max must have read on her face that Elle had no clue. 

Max bunched her fists. “Oh I _swear_ , if he just up and left you here I’m going to punch him way harder next time I—”

“ **What?** You _punched_ him? When did—”

“Hah,” Max scoffed. “I knew he didn’t tell you! He’s been keeping that little secret all week—”

Elle shot to her feet. “Are you serious right now? You didn’t say anything either!”

“Yeah, but I’m just saying, he’s always keeping secrets and now he left without saying anything!”

“He didn’t ‘leave’!” she snapped. “Gods, he probably just went to check his email or something.”

“For four hours?”

“There’s no reason to jump to conclusions just because you don’t like him. I wasn’t expecting the two of you to be best friends but this is too much, Max!” Elle braced both hands on the table, leaning down to glare at her cousin eye-to-eye. Quietly trying not to seethe she said, “And, for the record, I’m walking away right now because I need space, _not_ because I’m leaving. I’ll see you at camp tonight.”

Max rolled her eyes before Elle even finished her sentence, crossing her arms and looking away. Elle was way too angry to feel bad about the tears Max was blinking away. She stormed out of the meal tent.

She didn’t make it more than a few steps beyond it, though, stopping to cover her clenched eyes with her hands. 

She could not _believe_ Max! Mythal’s mercy, she’d been forcing Solas to spend time with her cousin all week, not knowing she’d _assaulted_ him. No wonder he couldn’t relax. She really wished he had said something to her. 

She sighed, dropping her hands, trying to center herself. It was too hot for the season this far north, even in the mountains. A little humid. The camp was noisy, the kitchens even noisier. There was a loud thumping noise she didn’t recognize around the corner, and she slowed her breathing to match its pace.

Elle hadn’t just been being defensive. She knew Solas hadn’t left all together. She could admit, logically, that he had means, motive, and opportunity: He’d been seen leaving with a bag, after she’d told him to leave if he wanted, after he’d already been discussing ticket prices.

But she knew that wasn’t what happened, whatever evidence was presented. There was an explanation, and she could wait to hear it. 

She really wished he had said something to her, though. And she really wished she knew where he was. 

She started to walk back to camp, but got no farther than turning the corner around the kitchen area before her wish was granted. There was Solas, standing in the back of the rental pickup truck, surrounded by cases of bottled water. She watched as he, shirtless and sweating, bent to pick up a case. He tossed it over the side of the truck to a man she didn’t recognize, who then tossed it into a neat stack — the thumping noise she’d heard. 

From her half-hidden place around the corner she stood back and watched, running her hand down her braid. Solas bent to pick up another heavy case, and another, and she didn’t bother stop herself from ogling the way his back muscles stretched and flexed as he worked. 

Damn. She knew she was attracted to him, of course, but she hadn’t really considered that he was, objectively, a fine piece of ass.

~~~

With a small grunt of effort Solas tossed the man, Jaelon, the last case of bottled water. They’d already unloaded the jugs so he paused to catch his breath, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm as he stood in the bed of the tuck. Jaelon set the case down like he’d down with the others.

Jaelon reached up, extending a hand to Solas. “Ma serannas.” 

Solas grinned, leaning down to shake the man’s hand firmly. “Ma serannas,” he returned. When Solas had shown up to the first cooking tent and started unloading the water, Jaelon had immediately jumped up to help, and when Solas had explained the plan to split the supplies between three of the meal tents he’d offered to tag along and help unload there, too. “Do you need a ride back, Lethallin?”

The man scrunched up his face in an expressive ‘nah’ gesture. “I got family around here somewhere. I’m going to catch up with them. Thanks again, friend.”

“Anytime.” 

Jaelon left and Solas dug into the last remaining case — allocated for his own tent — and pulled out a bottle. Then he sat on the tailgate and chugged the warm water. He looked up when he’d finished to find Elle stepping towards him.

He lowered his feet to the ground, standing in surprise. “Vh—Elizabeth.”

“Vhenan,” she said, smiling.

He smiled back, letting out a shaky breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He wasn’t certain if she was using the pet name on him (something she rarely did) or correcting him as if to say he didn’t have to refrain from using it on her, but either way it was a good sign that she wasn’t still angry after this morning.

“What’s going on here?”

His eyes followed hers to the neat stacks of supplies. “After you… I went to the meal tent nearest ours this morning, to restock on water,” he explained, leaving out that he had done so with the hopes of making coffee for her to bring as a peace offering. “They explained that they were short as well — they had ordered more, but they wouldn’t deliver this far and the clan was having vehicle trouble… So I volunteered to make the pick up.”

“So you volunteered,” she said, nodding slowly. “Um, are you headed back to camp now?”

He glanced back at the truck. “That was the plan. Are you? May I give you a ride?”

“Yes, please.”

They moved to either side of the cab. She picked up his shirt from the passenger seat before climbing in. He held out his hand for it, but she just looked at him.

“May I have my shirt back?”

She screwed up her lips like she was thinking it over. “I suppose,” she said after a moment, passing it over.

He chuckled, even as he flushed warmed from her approving gaze. He tugged it back on, movements awkward in the driver’s seat. They made their way, very slowly, back to the Lavellan area. There was far too much foot traffic to drive any faster than a crawl, not that he was in any hurry.

She was playing with the tail of her braid. “You were gone a really long time.”

He nodded. “Yes. I also had to speak with the rental company to extend how long we keep the truck — they weren’t happy about it — and I checked my email before making the pick up.”

She nodded, and he waited because it looked like she wanted to say something.

She didn’t, though, so he took a breath and continued, “I took the liberty to, ah– You were still logged into your school email on my laptop. I hoped that, since it wasn’t a personal email you wouldn’t mind that I…” He tapped a spiral notebook on the seat between them. “I wrote down the details they sent about your assignments, in case you wanted to take a look at them.”

He braced himself as he finished. He hoped she wouldn’t interpret this as him pressuring her, or else as a violation of privacy. He just wanted her to have all the information she could at her disposal… 

Her hand on his cheek turned him to her and she planted a hard kiss on his lips. He stopped the truck to lean closer.

He blinked as she pulled back and looked him in the eye. “Thank you, Solas. That was very considerate of you.”

“Thank you. You’re welcome, I mean.”

She settled back in her seat. He waited for a group of preteens crossing the road in front of him, despite his truck being the only vehicle on the road, before moving again. 

“You should have told me Max hit you.”

Ah. He’d been waiting for that one all week. “I’m sorry. At first I was giving Max time to be the one to tell you, and then…” He sighed. “I know how much you missed her, and even if I can’t claim to feel the same I didn’t want to overshadow your time spent here.”

“Thank you for that, but it was her actions that put a damper on things, not yours.” He nodded, though he only mostly agreed. “I really hate that I forced you to spend time with her all weekend after that. I could have… I don’t know, something. You should have told me.”

He nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Creators, I hope not…” she muttered. “I don’t know what to do about her.”

She stared out the window, pensive, and he let her be. Soon after he was pulling into the designated parking spot in front of their tent. They got out of the truck, and he lowered his seat to reach into the back for his laptop bag and the duffle full of snacks. When he carried them to the tent he saw her reading the note he’d left pinned to it for her that morning. 

“I missed you at the presentation earlier,” she said softly as she folded it and tucked it into her pocket. 

Guilt twisted in his stomach. “I’m sorry. I wanted– I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome. I didn’t want to distract you.”

She nodded. “I get it,” she said, but she still looked sad. He set the bags down and reached out for her, and she folded herself against him, resting her head against his chest. “I still wish you’d been there, though.”

“I missed you at the presentation earlier,” she said softly as she folded it and tucked it into her pocket. 

Guilt twisted in his stomach. “I’m sorry. I wanted– I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome. I didn’t want to distract you.”

She nodded. “I get it,” she said, but she still looked sad. He set the bags down and reached out for her, and she folded herself against him, resting her head against his chest. “I still wish you’d been there, though.”

He wondered if he’d ever learn how not to disappoint her. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and laid his cheek against it. “I’m sorry, Vhenan,” he said again.

She gave him a squeeze and pulled back. “I know I have a temper. And as much as I’d like to think I’ll learn how to control it better, the chances are good that this sort of thing will happen again some day. So, for the future, if I’m upset and you’re wondering if I want you to be… Wherever… I do.”

He nodded solemnly. “I will remember that,” he promised. “For what it’s worth, you did great today.”

She snorted. “You can’t say that when you weren’t even there.”

“Can to. I watched the video.”

“The… What, when?”

“I asked your keeper to record it for me. I found her as soon as I came back, before I started unloading.” She was staring up at him. He reached up to brush her face, his thumb softly tracing the rose pink vallaslin on her cheek. “I know today with just a small thing, but your ability to command a room -- or tent for that matter… I cannot wait to see you lead a courtroom one day.”

She blushed so hard her tattoos became nearly invisible before she was up on her toes, kissing him again. He held her, soft and tender, grateful to have done something right this time.

They stayed like that a moment after the kiss broke, in the sunshine and fresh air as Elle fiddled with the buttons of his shirt. “I was thinking we could hang out tonight, just the two of us?” she said.

“Of course. Did you have anything in mind?”

“Yeah, I was thinking maybe we could take one of those dance classes Clan Sabrae is doing?”

He laughed. “Aren’t those for the children?”

“Beginners, children… Same thing,” she said with a shrug.

He kissed her forehead. “Absolutely.”

~~~~~

Fortunately they weren’t the only adults there that night, even if they stood out a bit. They were content to laugh at themselves, and the instructor was happy for the additional students.

The dance more closely resembled a line dance than anything else, except done in a circle. Elle seemed to enjoy watching him fumble entirely too much. Did she think he was some kind of dancing expert? However much he enjoyed it, it wasn’t as though he had much experience; one needed a partner to dance.

Well, in a ballroom one did, anyway. This particular dance was done in a group but required no partner, and had no roles of lead or follow. It was also very spirited. On top of the labor from earlier Solas barely made it through dinner before he was ready to turn in for the night.

They limped back to their tent for the night hand in hand, and he lifted Elle’s to lightly kiss her fingers as they reached their tent. “I think I’ll go to bed early tonight, if that’s okay. Do you want me to build up the campfire first?”

“No. I’m pretty tired too, I think I’ll join you.”

“Oh? It’s early yet — You don’t want to wait up for Max?”

Elle made a face. “I probably should… Except there’s a good chance she’s hanging out with Tevin again tonight anyway. Let’s go brush our teeth. Maybe she’ll be here by the time we get back.”

By the time they’d readied themselves there was still no Max to be seen, so they settled into their conjoined sleeping bag. The vast campgrounds were loud this time of night, possibly more so because it was a weekend, if such things mattered out here. He hardly cared if it would take a long time to fall asleep -- not when his arms were wrapped around his heart. 

He lived for little moments of intimacy like this and thought, not for the first time this week, how it was futile to fight against it any longer. She’d been very patient with him, but the truth of it was losing her again would be unbearable regardless of any lovemaking. And, all things considered…

He really wished they were returning home sooner.

She touched his cheek and looked at her, seeing her clearly despite the low light thanks to his elven genes. He saw the hint of reflective eyeshine as she peered up him and said, “We didn’t know where you went today. Max tried to convince me you’d packed up and left.”

“Of course not! I’m sorry, Vhenan– I didn’t mean to worry you, I couldn’t text but—”

“I know, I know. But this morning… I said I was going to stay but you could leave if you wanted, and then said she saw you loading up the truck and—”

Shit, he hadn’t even thought of that. “No. Elizabeth, I would never—”

“Shh! You’re not listening to me.” She moved onto her elbow so that she was poised above him. “You’ve been kinda of– Not all here, and I know you’re stressed about getting back, and then all that… It made sense, but I knew it wasn’t right. I was a little worried about what could have happened, but not that you’d left, you know?”

Her eyes were flicking back and forth between his as if she needed to know he understood the importance of her words: 

That she trusted him.

He surged up to kiss her, hand wrapping around the nape of her neck eagerly. She made a small squeak of surprise but returned his fervor, fisting a hand in his shirt and pressing down into him. 

This is what had been missing, the thing holding him back. 

What Max had said had hit him hard, but after wasting several days in worry and guilt he’d been able to let it go. He’d hurt Elle, immeasurably, but holding himself back from her wasn’t going to fix that. He’d much rather dedicate himself to making her happy in the present, and in the future. He’d planned on telling as much when they returned to Val Royeaux. 

He hadn’t realized he wasn’t completely comfortable with his decision until this moment. He hated that he couldn’t tell her that he loved her, and didn’t understand it. It hurt, if he was being honest with himself. He’d all but given up that she’d ever say it to him. But this; trust, communication, intimacy, companionship; this was everything he needed.

And it broke the last thread of his willpower.

He pulled her down on top of him, plunging his tongue past her lips to taste her. She moaned deliciously and moved to cover him even further, undulating her body against his. They pushed and pulled against each other, hot and hungry. 

She broke the kiss to gasp, but he didn’t need air, only her. He kissed her neck instead, nipping his way up to her ear lobe. 

“Solas…” She bit her lips together, smothering a whimper-like noise, and tried again. “Solas, are you going to want to stop tonight?”

“No,” he breathed into her ear, his voice feeling thick in his throat. “I am yours, Elizabeth. Ma vhenan…”

She kissed him again, practically purring into him, the vibration driving him mad. He had to hear more, and he knew what she liked. He yanked the top of the sleeping bag so that the zipper separated and tossed it aside. His feet were still in it, but it was open enough now to grabbed her pert ass with both hands and squeeze, position her until she was straddling his thigh, and then he rais his knee hard.

Her keen was cut off short. She propped herself up on one arm, using her other hand to cover her mouth. She canted against the hard muscle of his thigh and even through all the layers of cotton he could feel the heat of her. He suppressed a groan of his own. 

Elle staggered, stopped, moved again. She let out a moan, too-loud even in the crowded camp, and stopped to shake her head. “I can’t. I don’t think I can…” She made one last half-hearted attempt to pleasure herself against him before giving up. She detangled herself and fell on her back beside him with a huff. 

Solas quickly rolled onto his side. “You– You can’t be quiet when you want to?”

She pressed her palms against her forehead in frustration. “ _No._ And it really sucks sometimes.”

He took a deep breath, trying to cool the heat in his blood. “Yes, that does sound… inconvenient,” he said, though the near-painful hardness of his cock disagreed. He pictured taking her out to the truck, shutting the doors and maybe turning on the radio to cover her sounds as she— “We’ve waited this long. We can wait another week.”

She groaned in frustration, still hiding under her hands. “Yeah. We can wait. It’ll be nice to have a bed. And a proper shower.”

It would. He ran his hand over his scalp, feeling the stubble there. He wanted to touch her to comfort her, but there wasn’t a single inch of her body that didn’t feel sexual to him at the moment. He settled for resting a hand at her waist. 

“Gods, this is awful. Do you want me to leave for a while? To give you some privacy to… You know. There’s no reason for us both to suffer.”

He snorted, laughing. “Thank you, Vhenan. But I will survive.”

“That makes one of us,” she complained. “I wish I could do that. I’m much quieter by myself, but I’m just not very good at it.”

“Oh?” he prompted, attention rapt. 

She laughed a little. “It’s just hard for me to finish when I’m alone…” She gave him a thoughtful look he couldn’t read. And then, amazingly, her hand drifted down her body. She tugged open the knot of her pajama shorts. 

He watched her intently, saying nothing to dispel what was happening. Her fingers slipped beneath the waistband and then her eyes fluttered closed. His own stayed wide as he watched the fabric move, his imagination eagerly supplying the slow circular motions he couldn’t see. 

Her eyes opened and he could feel her watching him. A fingertip traced gently down his jaw. “Kiss me.”

He bent to kiss her, matching her pace; slow, steady, but with a lot of biting. His hand drifted up to her breast, breathtakingly soft, but as soon as his thumb found the pebble of her nipple she whimpered and shook her head. It took an unbearable amount of strength to removed his had. 

He settled it away, on her thigh, wonderfully bare thanks to her hatred of pants. He kept his fingers splayed but still. Unteasing. Her tongue twisted against his and he could feel the movement as her motions became frantic as she tried to finish herself off. The outside world disappeared, the only sounds her smothered would-be cries and his thrumming pulse. 

Then her other hand found his already near-painfully hard cock. He groaned in surprise and she stroked him again, harder, fingers half wrapping around his shaft through the layers of pajamas and boxers. He did nothing to stop himself from bucking into her hand as she touched herself with the other.

The prolonged kiss broke down to little more than pants and occasional bites as she worked them both. He began to worry about the logistics of coming without a rag handy when her hips began lifting off the ground with each movement, her thigh muscles flexing under his grip as she pressed into her own hand, and he lost the ability to think at all. 

But then she let out a long miserable whine, dropping her hips and stilling her movements, though her hands stayed where they were. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears. 

“It’s not _working_. It’s not enough.”

Fenedhis, how he wished he could do more for her. What he wouldn’t give for her to pitch her hips against his face instead of her own hand. “Are– Is there nothing else I can do? What do you mean, ‘not enough’?”

“I means it’s…” Her already heated face blushed brightly in the darkness. “It’s too, like, empty, you know? I really wished I had a vibrator…”

Useless ideas of driving two hours down and back in the middle of the night to buy her one flooded his thoughts, followed closely by a much better idea. He moved his hand to cup her where her hand was still trapped in her panties. “I can help with that.”

She shook her head. “No way, I’d be way too loud.”

He swallowed. “No, I meant… What if I keep my fingers completely still? You can control the movements.”

“Gods, that would be way too embarrassing,” she protested. “And it’s a mess down there right now.”

‘Please’ was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it. He should not beg for her to use him however much he wanted to. “There’s no reason to be embarassed, Vhenan.”

But maybe he didn’t need to, because she asked, “Are you sure you’re okay with that? It seems awkward, but I’m really desperate here…”

He nodded quickly, and Elle bit her lip but then lifted her hips and started to pull down her clothes. Solas used the opportunity to reach down and yank off a sock, his movements awkward and careless in the confines of the sleeping bag. He dropped into the space between them and propped himself up on one arm for a better position and a better view. Then he moved his hand between her exposed thighs and waited. 

She took his wrist, blushing furiously. He positioned his digits so that the longest were stiff and the others folded out of the way. Then she tried to push them into her slick core. 

The angle wasn’t great and without meaning to he assisted, easily sliding into her in a way she couldn’t manage. She bit her lips together in a way that looked painful, but said nothing, and he tried to remember that he wasn’t to move. That he couldn’t curl his fingers, couldn’t pump her until she cried his name. Instead she used his wrist to pull him in and out testingly. It wasn’t as deep or full as he could make her, but he was diligent in letting her control it. 

Her other hard returned to circle her clit as she fucked herself with his hand, her eyes skewing closed in concentration. After a few moments of this she tried holding his wrist still and instead raising her hips up to meet him and he could see the relief on her face when she did. 

She did it again, again, quickly. It was hard to keep his hand exactly in place for her to thrust upon, the muscles of his arms tense with effort, but an earthquake couldn’t move him now. Her wetness dripped down his fingers. She had no hands left to smother her sounds so he covered her mouth with his until her cries reverberated in him and he felt her walls clench rhythmically against him. His jaw clenched as he fought to control himself at her coming undone around him. 

Her movements stopped and she turned away to gulp for air, so he relunctantly withdrew his hand. His eyes never left her as she panted on her back, eyes closed. She looked so exposed there, her hand still between her legs and her clothing pulled down haphazardly. 

‘I love you,’ he told her, but only in his mind. “You are so beautiful,” he said aloud, and she huffed a giddy little laugh and started to pull up her shorts.

Solas pulled the sleepingbag back over her and started to zip it so the chill in the air wouldn’t reach her. As soon as she had herself righted she flipped onto her side. She kissed his neck, bit it, licked it. He groaned and turned to her and she kissed him fully as if in gratitude. She pressed her hand against his should and he let her guide him to lay flat on his back. Then her hand immediately move down his chest and stomach to cup him. He quickly moved to pull down the waistbands of his pajamas and boxers rather try to fish himself out and her fingers wrapped around him, moving up and down his length—

And then the tent zipper was pulled down, the sound of it like a screech that burst the world inside the tent. They both froze and he closed his eyes, instinctively feigning sleep. The tent flap opened, and he peered through almost-closed lids to see Max rezipping it and moving over to her own sleeping bag.

He cursed internally. 

Several long moments passed as Max got settled. Once she still he risked a look at Elle, whose back was towards were Max lay. She gave him a pained expression and slowly withdrew her hand. 

The minutes ticked on painfully. No matter how he controlled his breathing his erection would not be ignored. 

Finally, when he judge it had been long enough to not be suspicious he rolled onto his side, as if merely tossing and turning in the night. He pulled the sleeping bag taunt over his shoulder to conceal any movement beneath. Elle’s eyes were wide, questioning, and she tentatively brushed her fingers along his shaft. 

He gave her a small shake of his head; he did not want to prolong this. She withdrew her hand and he found the discarded sock and put it on his cock. He closed his eyes. He could feel Elle’s breath on his oversensitive lips. He brought his fingers up to his mouth, stealing just a quick taste of her. Careful that his movements were undetectable, he brought his hand back to down and jerked himself three, four times before holding his breath as he came, completely silent. 

Elle was still watching him when he opened his eyes again. He controlled his breath as he released it. He carefully extracted himself from sock and very slowly pulled the elastic waistbands back up and over. 

Then he found Elle’s hand a brushed a kiss against her knuckles, smirking slightly at her expression. She wriggled closer to him, and keeping hold of his hand as they settled down for sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay well now that everyone knows I have a Weakness for ‘couple really wants P in V sex but can’t because [insert reason] so they do other stuff instead’ I suppose we can move on… ~~don’t judge me~~


End file.
